


The Way Back

by A_Renegade_Heart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-19 13:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 104,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14238195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Renegade_Heart/pseuds/A_Renegade_Heart
Summary: Nora Morrissey has an ex-boyfriend. She also has an ex-best friend, which is so much worse. Worse still, is that they are the same person, Stiles Stilinski. And when Stiles finally comes knocking on her door, it isn't to beg for forgiveness like it would be in a movie, no, it's because he says Scott's on drugs. Turns out, Stiles was lying. It's not drugs, it's werewolves."Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them." - Richard Siken





	1. There Was Before

 

**Chapter One - There Was Before**

* * *

 

Stiles Stilinski never thought he'd be at Nora Morrissey's door again. But there he was, pacing back and forth on the front porch of a house that used to be a second home to him. It hurt so badly he wanted to throw up. He knew where to step so the boards under his feet wouldn't creak and Stiles was glad that he did. He'd hate to let anyone in the house know he was standing in front of their door like some kind of idiot, too afraid to ring the bell.

_I'm doing this for Scott. It's for Scott. Scott's is gonna need more help than I can give him. Right? Right. Scott._

His best friend had put claw marks in the back of his desk chair and Stiles didn't know what the fuck to do about it so here he was, telling himself Scott was the reason he had come to see Nora.

When he should have come here months ago.

But Stiles would be the first to admit it, when it came to Nora; he'd always been a coward. She was always making the first moves. Now it was his turn. Stiles looked at the doorbell. Then he looked down the street where he had parked the jeep far away from Nora's house where once, he had almost murdered their mailbox. Well, he'd almost done that a couple times.

_Nope. This is for Scott._

He knew it wasn't, because Scott didn't ask him to do this or think there was anything wrong with him. Stiles knew that if Scott was what he thought he was, and he knew he was ridiculous to think it, he was going to need Nora. And it was selfish, he knew that, and he hated himself a little for it. But he looked back to the doorbell, choked down the squirming ball of anxiety and guilt in his throat, and rang it.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Then he heard light footsteps careening for the door and he wondered if he wanted Nora to answer it. Though, those footsteps didn't sound like Nora's.

Yeah, he knew her footsteps.

The door swung open and Stiles found himself staring at Marisa Morrissey. And she was giving him the dirtiest look her small face could muster. She and her sister Isabelle had their twelfth birthdays just after Christmas. Not that Stiles had been invited.

"Mom, the bastard is here." She called.

Stiles felt that like a punch to the gut. Nora's younger sisters were the closest things he had to his own, and he guessed they hated him now too. He heard Nora's stepmother Sofia shout something in Italian. He didn't understand it, but it sounded unpleasant and she was scowling as she stepped into the doorframe, ushering Marisa away. He was always struck by how similar Marisa and Isabelle looked to their mother. All three of them had the same brown eyes that were so dark they looked black, dark hair and pointed features. He couldn't speak to whether or not Nora shared the same uncanny resemblance with her mother. Stiles had never met her. He assumed she must, since Nora didn't look much like her dad. He wondered if that hurt her, he'd never asked.

Sofia leaned against the doorframe. She crossed her arms as she looked him over, still scowling. He remembered once when he had the flu; Sofia had come to his house and slept on the couch so that his father could go to work. His dad hadn't even asked, she'd just shown up with about five different kinds of soup and forced Noah into his car.

"What do you want?" She said.

Her voice was quick and clear like always, but there was a bite that Stiles wasn't used to, and like everything else, it hurt.

"I need to talk to Nora." He said, sounding unsurprisingly pitiful. "It's about Scott."

Her face softened at hearing Scott's name and Stiles understood. Scott hadn't hurt Nora. He never would. But still, Sofia narrowed her eyes.

"It's about Scott?" She said, chewing on every word.

He nodded and, after a moment, Sofia nodded back.

"Wait." She said.

The door shut in his face, but Stiles didn't move. Never in his life had he not listened to Sofia, and he wasn't planning on starting now. A very long minute passed, then another one, and then another. All Stiles could hear was his heart hammering in his chest so when the door opened again and he was looking at Nora. It took all the strength he had not to throw up all over her shoes. They were white converse, classic Nora.

"Hey." Was all he could muster.

Nora stepped outside and shut the door behind her.

She looked pretty much the same. Well, he had seen her earlier that day. He still saw Nora every day at school, but not like this. She had not been anywhere within three feet of him in about three months.

Nora folded her arms over her chest the same way Sofia did. It was things like that that made it clear Sofia was more Nora's mother than anyone else had ever been. She cocked her head in the small way that was so familiar to him he wanted to scream or cry or do something else equal parts dramatic and pathetic. But Nora was quiet, that's kind of what she was. Quiet and very good at staring long enough to make people very uncomfortable. She had a good stare for that. When Stiles had first met Nora he had thought it was odd to look at someone and see two different eyes. Both of them weirdly pale, one green and the other blue. But now, ten years later, they were Nora's eyes, staring at him with this mix of pain and anger that he could tell she was trying so hard to hide. Stiles felt like his ribs were breaking.

"What's the matter with Scott?" She asked.

Her voice was hard. Stiles ran his hands through his stupid buzz cut. Had he and Nora still been speaking in November, she probably would have told him not to do it. Though he doubted he would have listened.

"I think he's on drugs." Stiles said. His voice was steady and clear because he'd rehearsed this part. "And I don't know what the hell to do."

That part was true, he really didn't.

Nora ran her hands through her sandy coloured hair, dark at the roots like always. Her eyes fell to the empty pot he knew sat on the porch behind him. Stiles didn't know where else to look but down at her face. He was pretty sure he could count the freckles and moles splattered across her nose and cheeks with his eyes closed. He knew how that sounded, but he also knew Nora that well.

"You think?" She said, finally looking back up at him. "For how long?"

Actually, Stiles thought Scott was turning into a werewolf, but he couldn't exactly tell her that. Not when she definitely wasn't going to humour him. Nora would have before, but that was before.

"November, when he started training for the new season."

He didn't need to say he was talking about lacrosse; they were only ever talking about lacrosse.

"You think its steroids?" Nora said, surprised.

Stiles nodded, wondering if Nora had gone to their most recent practice. Though he'd looked for her in the crowd and Stiles had been sure she wasn't there. He watched her brow furrow and he knew she was weighing how much she loved Scott, with how much she hated him.

"So what do you think we should do?" She said, her voice was sharp, especially on the "we" part. "I don't think it's good to get Melissa involved unless-"

"we know." Stiles finished, regretting it when he saw rage flash in her eyes. "Yeah." He said.

Now Nora was studying him, he knew that. Searching his face for a sign that this was some bullshit excuse to get her to talk to him again. It was a bullshit excuse, but not for that.

"So what do you want me to do?" She asked.

Her voice was flat, and her expression cool. It was moments like this when Stiles forgot she was five feet tall because he felt towered over. He looked away from her, his eyes flicking to the setting sun. Did he really believe Scott was turning into a werewolf?

"There's a party tonight, and I think Scott's going so he can meet his drug dealer." Stiles told her. "But I don't know, I just- I don't know."

Nora was quiet for a long moment and Stiles knew it was because she was thinking about whose party it was they'd be attending. Because everyone knew about Lydia' party, even if they weren't invited. Nora probably had been, she was kind of popular like that, but he knew there was no way in hell she'd go.

Stiles tried not to notice how her eyes were glassing over, or think about the last party they went to.

Nora sighed. It was her defeated sigh, the one she let out when he or Scott had convinced her to do something stupid.

"Just let me get changed."

* * *

 

When Nora had imagined the day Stiles finally knocked on her front door and asked to see her, Scott was in no way involved. She had been expecting a long apology she'd cut off with a kiss, their song blasting from inside the jeep. But really she wasn't expecting any of it, because she wasn't an idiot and Nora wasn't sure she wanted it anyway. Though they did have a song, the same song about a million other couples had. It was Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes and Nora would rather not hear it.

As soon as she shut the door on Stiles there were tears welling in her eyes and she blinked them back. Ignoring the mingled confused and concerned looks coming from Sofia and the twins, she raced upstairs change into something "impromptu intervention" appropriate. All she was really doing was putting on a skirt instead of jeans and throwing on a jacket.

Nora caught herself in the mirror, like she did every day. She knew she looked the same as she had before everything went wrong with Stiles. The same narrow eyes, soft features and "her father's jaw." Nora knew that part was bullshit; she'd seen her mother and she spent summers with her aunt. They all looked the same. The women in her family were all the same rounded heart shaped face and lucky to be born blonde and stay that way. She supposed her mother looked a lot more hollowed out, but that was probably all the heroine. Nora liked how she looked, enough that she didn't think about too much. She'd stopped thinking that had been the thing she'd done wrong, or she'd tried to.

Nora certainly wasn't thinking about what it was like to look Stiles in the eyes again. She didn't know what the feeling was, but it hurt different than it did the night she left him. She didn't feel like breaking down into sobs. She felt like breaking something though, some plates perhaps. When she opened her bedroom door she was unsurprised to find Sofia staring at her.

"Was it something about Scott?" She asked.

Nora didn't blame her for being skeptical, hell; she had figured Stiles was making shit up. But there was a very specific look of concern Stiles got on his face when something was wrong with Scott, and she knew it well.

"Yes." She said, and tried to worm her way past her step-mother.

"Do you need me to drive you somewhere?" She asked, blocking Nora's path, dark eyes boring into her.

_Yeah, to Lydia fucking Martin's house._

"Nope." She said, popping the p as she squirmed under the arm Sofia had braced in her doorway. She let her go this time.

"If you need anything." She said, not needing to finish.

"I'll call." Nora assured as she hurried downstairs, jumping down the last few steps.

She stopped as she came to her front door, trying to calm the feeling of uneasiness and rage that was settling in her stomach.

"He's lucky you opened the door." She heard Isabelle's voice from inside the kitchen. "If it were me he'd have to say goodbye to his-"

Nora opened and shut the door before she heard her sister finish. If it was cold out, she couldn't tell. Her whole body was hot with anxiety or anger or maybe she'd come down with a sudden flu and should bail. But Stiles was standing right in front of her, and as much as she wished she didn't feel anything when she looked at him, she felt worry for how worried he was for Scott.

"Where's the jeep?" She asked, fighting to keep her voice level.

Looking very sheepish, Stiles gestured up the street. Nora was sure she'd rather set herself on fire than get in that stupid car.

_Scott. Something's wrong with Scott._

She started walking before Stiles did and she heard him follow after her. Nora forced herself not to turn around. Stiles be damned, Scott was still her friend, and if he needed help then she'd give it to him or get it for him. Her eyes flicked to Stiles as he came around either side of the jeep. At least they still had Scott in common.

* * *

 

The party was in full swing by the time Stiles pulled up to the curb down the street from Lydia's house. Nora got out quickly. Her door slammed shut and she was standing on the sidewalk before Stiles had even taken the keys out of the ignition. He wished this was an appropriate time to get stupid drunk. Though, that might actually make looking at her worse. Stiles watched Nora search her wrist for a hair tie and find that she didn't have one. He still had some in the glove compartment, but he doubted she'd be happy to know that.

"So what?" She said. "Follow him?"

"Uh, yeah, we wait for him to ditch Allison and then…" He trailed off, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Even when he and Nora were just friends, it would have been normal for him to swing an arm around her shoulders. Now, he didn't know what to do with himself.

"Allison?" She asked. "The new girl?"

Stiles nodded.

"He brought his date to a drug deal?" Nora said, folding his arms over her chest.

"Yep." Stiles said, popping the p and starting towards the house, hoping that ended the line of questioning.

Nora scoffed, but Stiles wasn't sure if she was scoffing at what he'd said or something else. He heard her footsteps behind him, hurrying to match her strides to his own. She didn't fall in next to him though, instead Nora bounded ahead through the open door and into the din of the party. Stiles hurried after her, watching Nora greet and smile at people as she went through. She asked if anyone had seen "the new girl" as they went through the crowd. Stiles and Nora both knew no one would have any idea if they'd seen Scott or not. One of the many great things about being Nora's friend was that Nora was friends with pretty much everyone. He and Scott's group of friends, or at least acquaintances, had been a lot bigger when they'd had Nora. Now they sat alone at lunch, talking about anything except the empty seat at their table.

Nora turned around and stopped so suddenly Stiles almost ran into her.

"I don't think he's here yet." She said, stepping back from him. "What time was he supposed to get here?"

What time was Scott freaking out about having to pick up Allison up at? Seven?

"He was picking up Allison at seven." Stiles told her. "So he should show up soon."

Nora nodded and for a quiet moment they were just looking at one another. Her gaze was heavy, it always had been, but it was very different when Stiles knew she could not be thinking happy things. Jessica, Nora's closest friend, came up behind her and put her hands over her eyes, paying no mind to Stiles.

"Guess who?" Jessica asked.

"The Archbishop of Los Angeles." Nora said flatly and whipped around to poke her friend in the stomach.

She used to do that to him.

"I'll find you when Scott gets here." Stiles said as Nora asked Jessica for a hair tie.

Nora nodded and didn't give him a second glance as her friend tugged her away. Stiles looked around, hands still in his pockets. No one stopped to talk to him and he sighed, he'd gotten used to forcing himself into people's conversations. But it never felt good.

* * *

 

"What the fuck are you doing here with him?" Jess asked, pouring her beer into a cup and mixing it with juice.

Nora sipped her's from the bottle, having never minded the taste.

"Scott's having some trouble." She said, almost having to yell over the din of the party.

Jess nodded, her dark ponytail bobbed as she did. She gestured around the kitchen.

"So, do you wanna trash the place?" She asked.

Nora doubted Jess was joking; they had teepeed enough houses to know Jess was never joking about vandalism.

"No." She said. "It's not Lydia's house's fault that Stiles is infatuated with her."

She refused to say in love, because how could he be? He didn't know her. Jess shrugged and finished her drink, quickly pouring herself another. Nora followed suite, grabbing another bottle and, in very dramatic fashion, popped it open on the countertop. There was a series of impressed noises from everyone in the kitchen and Nora couldn't help but smile a little. She had her small talents; never needing a bottle opener was one of them.

Nora spent the next half an hour in the kitchen, stopping after two drinks while everyone else kept going. She leaned against the counter, opening people's drinks and listening to Jess and their friend Mei express their differences of opinion on how the Angels would fare this upcoming season. Nora, her dad being a proud Bostonian, and having spent every Christmas in Boston since she was little, was a secret Red Sox fan. And as Nora grinned at the memory of watching them play in Anaheim, she failed to notice Stiles wrestling through the crowd until he was careening into the kitchen island. Everyone stared at him for a moment while his eyes were on her, wide with worry.

"Where's Scott?" Nora asked, the kitchen resuming its previous din. Though for her, the loudest thing in the room was her own heart hammering.

Stiles threw up his hands and started walking. She rushed to follow him, shoving between Jess and Mei as Jess shouted something about "Walden being a shit pitcher" to which Mei responded "That's bullshit!"

"He left!" Stiles shouted as they raced out the front door. "He was just freaking tripping over himself and he left!"

So he was drunk, or something worse. Nora barreled into the passenger seat of the jeep without a second thought and Stiles was veering into the street before her door was even shut. He wouldn't stop swearing under his breath and Nora understood that this was bad, but it couldn't be that bad, unless-

"Did he drive?" She asked, not even caring how panicked she sounded because this was Scott.

_Would this even be happening if I had been around?_

She drove the thought from her head as Stiles tightened his hands on the wheel, answering without even saying anything. She pulled her phone from her pocket.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked, glancing at her.

"Look at the road." Nora said. Her shaking fingers were uncooperative as she tried to type out her password.

"Nora, what are you doing?" Stiles asked again, sounding more panicked about that than whatever was happening with Scott.

"We have to call the cops if there's an impaired driver on the road, Stiles." She snapped. "Shouldn't you know that, you're dad's the fucking-"

"Don't do that!" He said, half reaching for her phone with one hand. "We don't know that-"

"You said he was stumbling." Nora cut him off.

"I think he was just freaking out." Stiles said, fighting to keep his voice level.

She studied him. If anyone was freaking out it was Stiles, but something was wrong. All Stiles did was vomit words, and he'd been buttoned up about whatever he thought was wrong with Scott. Nora had thought at first it was just her, and all the things that hung between her and him. Now she wasn't as sure. There was something else, on his face, in his eyes, in his voice. There was a fear there that Nora didn't understand, and Stiles was trying his damndest to hide it. She slipped her phone back into her jacket pocket and kept looking at him knowing how much he hated it when she stared. Nora watched him make the turn before turning onto Scott's road and he was doing it all way too fast but she wasn't worried, at least not about Stiles' driving.

"I better not have to throat punch a drug dealer tonight, Stiles." She said and she almost meant to be joking but it didn't come out that way. Her voice was just low.

Stiles let out a noise that was far too short to be a laugh.

"I don't think you'll have to do that."

* * *

 

Stiles watched as Nora kicked aside the doormat and bent to pick up the spare key to Scott's home. He had almost hoped she'd forgotten where it was. She hadn't, and so Stiles knew that she remembered how to get into his house too and was reminded that it had been months since she'd been there. He watched her unlock the door and before she could step inside Stiles stepped past her. He wasn't brave, but he also wasn't letting his ex-best friend walk first into the house with the out of control werewolf in it. It was chivalry, like pulling out a chair.

Stiles stopped and listened as water ran upstairs, Scott's shower. To his surprise, Nora didn't take the opportunity to step past him. Something he'd thought she was bound to try. Though he remembered Halloween in the seventh grade, when they'd explored the haunted house at the end of the street one street down from him. Nora had let him go first. She'd told him after that she did it because she knew he'd feel better, because she knew how scared he was, not just for himself, but for her.

So Stiles was scared shitless, and Nora could tell.

He raced through Scott's house up to his bedroom and pounded on the door, Nora was right on his heels. Stiles could feel her watching him and it was hard to ignore, mostly because he knew that by now, Nora was sure that he'd kept something from her. He hated doing that, and she hated it when he did it.

"Go away." Scott said from inside. His voice was low and rough, unlike him. He was already shifting.

_Shit._

Scott it's me." Stiles said, at this point he couldn't care less what his voice sounded like. Nora knew he was losing it. What was the point in trying to hide it?

He heard Scott's footsteps coming for the door and he didn't think too much about it but he stepped between the door and Nora. She was still just watching him. Stiles turned the knob and pushed it open; Scott met him at the door, not letting him open it all the way. His stomach was in knots as he listened to Scott's heavy breathing. He pushed at the door again.

"No-" Scott began.

"Scott, its Nora." She finally spoke, soft and even but Scott spoke over her.

"listen, you've gotta find Allison." Scott said, almost yelling.

"She's fine, alright?" Stiles told him, trying to keep Nora from worming her way to the door. She was deceptively strong, he'd forgotten. "I saw her get a ride from the party. She's totally fine."

Nora's ponytail was in his face as she stuck her head under his arm to try and see Scott.

"Scott can you-"

"I think I know who it is." Scott cut her off, which under other circumstances would have been a massive mistake.

Stiles was glad he couldn't see Nora's face because he didn't even want to know how confused she looked. Namely, because her confused face was astoundingly similar to her enraged face.

"Scott, let us in." Nora said, her voice sharp and strong and not one Stiles would argue with but Scott was still keeping them out.

"It's Derek." He shouted. "Derek Hale's the werewolf!"

Stiles could feel Nora looking at him again and he could also feel every bit of air leave his lungs.

"What the fuck?" Nora whispered but Stiles could barely hear her.

"Scott, Derek's the one who drove Allison from the party."

The door slammed in their faces.

"Scott!" Stiles shouted, fighting with the knob.

"Stiles, what the hell-"

"When I said drugs I meant werewolf, sorry, but I didn't think you'd believe me." He said quickly.

"I don't-" Nora began but the door finally gave in and swung open in time for them to see Scott crawl out of his window.

Stiles found he didn't care if she believes or not. They had bigger problems.

He and Nora clambered onto Scott's bed as Scott threw himself off of the roof. Stiles felt Nora freeze the same way he did at the sight of Scott crouched on the ground. He knew in his head that Scott wasn't hurt but it didn't matter to the churning in his stomach. A roar ripped through the night, a noise so inhuman that to Stiles there was no going back. His best friend was a werewolf. He hadn't really believed it until now. Stiles could feel that Nora's weight was gone from the bed and he whipped around. Her hands were on her head, tangled in her hair. He guessed she'd pulled it loss from the elastic. She was still just looking at him. Stiles found himself, as he so often did with Nora, with no idea what to say.

"What do we do?" Nora asked, sounding the same way she did when she got a stomach ache.

It's the "we" that got Stiles to his feet, because she sounded far less pained saying it this time.

"Allison." Stiles said. "We have to-"

"Do you know where she lives?" Nora asked, already leaving the room.

"Near you, I'm pretty sure." Stiles said, following her down the stairs and out the back door, not bothering to lock it.

Stiles couldn't get his keys to work in his shaking hands, so they were both just standing there for a moment. Silence under the bright moon.

"This is fucked." Nora said.

* * *

 

Nora was pretty sure that Stiles could fake this. If anyone could pull off a "my friend is a werewolf" prank, Stiles Stilinski could. But he couldn't fake the look on his face. Stiles was too afraid, too raw. The way his hands and voice were shaking was real, so it followed that werewolves were real too. Nora didn't know what to think about that. Instead she thought about Allison Argent, the new girl who may very well have moved into a town just to die.

They pulled up to her house and scrambled out of the car. Nora couldn't remember the last time she'd been this afraid. She was sure it would have to have been something to do with her mother but Nora couldn't think because Stiles had rung the doorbell about one hundred times.

"Stop that." She hissed.

Stiles banged his hand on the door.

Nora yanked him away by the back of his dumb jacket as the door swung open. A red headed woman was staring at them, and she did not look happy.

"Hi, Ms, Argent." Stiles said, clearly having never been less sure where to put his hands. "You have no idea who I am; I'm a friend of 'your daughter's." He said it like a question and Nora had to fight every instinct she had telling her to bury her head in her hands. "Uh, look, this is gonna sound kinda crazy but, um-"

It was too painful. She stepped around him, right up to the stoop.

"Sorry about him." She said, giving Stiles a second to trail off. "Is Allison home? We noticed she left the party early and wanted to make sure everything was okay."

Ms. Argent turned and called her daughter, disappearing as Allison came down the stairs. Stiles' relief was palpable, but evidently he hadn't thought of what he would actually say to Allison when he saw her. Allison looked between them, vague recognition on her face.

"Hey, I'm Nora, I'm friends with Scott." She said and glanced around for Allison's mother. "I saw you get into a car that wasn't his and I was worried you might have accepted a ride home from one of the local assholes." Nora told her, careful to keep her voice low. "But you're home safe, so we're gonna go." She said brightly, taking a step back and hoping Stiles was paying enough attention to do the same.

Allison was looking at her like she didn't really believe her but Nora doubted say anything.

"Oh, well thanks." Allison said.

"No worries." Nora said, giving her a wave. "Just looking out for my fellow woman." She added before turning and heading down the steps. Stiles followed suite.

Nora turned to Stiles once they heard the door swing shut. He was looking at her like he was glad she was there. The thought made rage crawl up her spine and curl up in her chest.

"Now what?" She asked him.

Stiles sighed. "I'm gonna drive around the woods all night looking for that dumbass."

Nora didn't say anything else as they walked back to the jeep and climbed inside. She wondered if he expected her to stay with him. She wondered if he wanted her to. Either way, Nora wasn't planning on it. Mostly because that's something she would have done before, but that was before.

"Call me when you find him." Nora said, knowing she should be a lot more worried.

Scott could hurt someone. He could hurt himself. But the thought of making Stiles think that they were okay hurt so much that Nora wasn't sure she could take it. She got to put herself first, especially after putting them first for so long. Didn't she?

"Okay." Stiles said, having the audacity to sound something like disappointed or angry or both.

Still, he took her home.

* * *

 

The moment Nora shut her bedroom door behind her she was crying. She wasn't happy about it, but it was what it was. She threw herself down onto her bed and tried very hard not to think about Scott, lost in the woods somewhere and scared out of his mind. He hadn't ever hurt her, not really, but she'd still left him when she left Stiles and Nora knew that had been petty and mean and all around stupid. But she'd done it, and she'd just done it again. But Nora doubted she could have stomached a whole night with Stiles. A whole night feeling how good it would be to be his friend again, while feeling how much that would hurt.

There was a knock on her door. It was soft, so it was her father.

"Yeah." Nora said, her voice muffled by the pillow she'd buried her face in.

She sat up as her dad came into her room, holding a glass of water. Sox, their very originally named Irish Wolfhound came bounding in after him and jumped up onto Nora's bed. She sat her head on Nora's lap. Her father sat down at the end of the bed and handed Nora the water. She drank some, and they watched each other. The staring thing, Nora knew she did it, was one thing she did actually get from him. And his eyes were blue, actual blue, not like her watery coloured one.

"How's Scott?" He asked.

Nora could always rely of Sofia to tell her dad what he needed to know. Which she was grateful for, because Nora almost never wanted to explain anything.

"He's bad." She said.

"Is it drugs?"

"No."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as Nora finished her water and gave Sox a scratch.

"Was seeing him at least okay?" Her dad asked, and Nora knew he wasn't talking about Scott.

"I don't know." Nora said.

And she didn't. There was a big part of her that wanted to say no, it wasn't okay. She'd rather drown than spend a minute with Stiles. But that wasn't true, not completely.

Her father nodded and scratched his beard.

"I understand." He said.

Nora knew that a lot of kids her age would have laughed at the idea of their parents understanding them. But if there was one thing she knew her dad understood, it was heartbreak. She knew he understood how wanting things and expecting things were different, and how being disappointed on both fronts hurt. He also understood how she liked to keep things to herself for a little bit. She watched him stand up and kiss the top of her head as he left the room, Sox stayed where she was.

A few minutes of staring at her ceiling later, Marisa and Isabelle stormed into her room, demanding Harry Potter. As much as Nora loved her family, and her home, there was one major problem. There were three girls who adored Harry Potter, and only one copy of the series. Nora's solution to the problem was that the twins should be forced to share a copy and she got to keep hers. Sofia's solution had been to make re-reading Harry Potter a bonding activity. So every night the three girls had to take turns reading chapters aloud to one another. Nora didn't mind, but Isabelle thought she read too slowly. Isabelle thought everyone read too slowly.

Nora listened to Marisa read out loud and tried not to think about anything but the story. Unfortunately, it was the Prisoner of Azkaban and Ron and Hermione weren't speaking so Harry wasn't speaking to Hermione either. Nora tried not to think about how if Harry was having a crisis, Ron and Hermione would have put their differences aside to help him. But she wasn't Hermione Granger. She was Nora Morrissey and if Stiles wanted her, wanted her help; he could grow up and ask.

* * *

 

**As always, all feedback is appreciated. I'm also kind of currently working on my own original work, so if updates aren't as consistent as they might be (idk what y'all expect from me if you're familiar haha oops) I am apologizing in advance. Also I'm writing this story like week to week or whatever, so that's a problem to, but IDK it just came to me so now we're all on this ride together.**


	2. The Earth Shatters

**Happy Friday everyone!**

**Chapter Two - The Earth Shatters**

* * *

_Nora pulled at the threads embroidered into her favourite skirt; sunflowers sitting over where her thighs were. It was as comfortable as the jeep she sat in, not quite Stiles', considering he didn't have his license yet._

" _You and Scott will have to get used to fighting for the passenger seat." He said, gloating._

_She didn't feel comfortable today. In fact, Nora was sure she was about to throw up._

" _When I get a car the passenger seat is yours." She said. Her voice was soft._

_She was trying to say something else, but the words wouldn't come out. But it was why she'd asked to come over. Nora didn't want to back out now. She was in love with her best friend, and it was eating her from the inside out. She didn't like to sit with things too long before she got them off her chest, and it had been one year of knowing this._

_It was too long and somehow not long enough._

_She was about to change everything, not just for her and Stiles but for her and Scott. Maybe even for Stiles and Scott. She didn't know. Nora had never thought anything could ruin their trio, and she certainly never thought she might be the thing to do it._

" _Really? Just like that?" Stiles said, not hearing what she was trying to get out. "Cause I could take Scott."_

_Nora didn't say anything, afraid everything might spill out. So she nodded. Nora had choked on the words "I love you" before, and she hadn't regretted not saying it then. But she knew she would now. They were about to start sophomore year, and if she had to join a different group of friends, she'd like to know before the first day._

_Nora looked up from her skirt to see that Stiles was looking at her. His eyes were wide and brown, lighter in the bright afternoon light. He was studying her, searching her face for why she was so quiet today._

" _Did your mom try and call again?" He asked._

_Nora stared at him, for a moment not understanding what he'd said. But then she got it. Nora spent summers with her mother's sister in Encinitas, surfing and reading and for the most part, not having a care in the world. But in the last few days of the trip, her mother would call her sister and ask to speak to Nora. Sometimes she'd try and visit, but that hadn't happened for a few years._

_Yes her mother had called, but that wasn't what was burning a hole in Nora's mind. Not today._

" _I'm in love with you."_

_The words just fell out._

* * *

Nora rolled over; the blaring of her alarm clock still rang in her ears. There was nothing better than Monday.

As Nora stumbled around getting dressed she thought about pretending Friday night hadn't happened. Stiles hadn't knocked on her door. She hadn't gone to Lydia Martin's house. Scott hadn't turned into a werewolf. But all those things had happened, and there weren't a lot of ways to go back. Nora didn't see how she could go back to pretending she didn't know Scott and Stiles and that she never had. Not when she was the only other person in on their massive, earth shattering secret. Though Nora had had her share of earth shattering revelations before.

"Your mother is moving out." "We're moving away from Encinitas." "I met someone new; I think you'll like her." "You're going to be a big sister."

Stiles didn't love her back.

That had been the last one, and Nora had dealt with it like all the rest, like how she'd deal with learning werewolves were real. Nora would get dressed and the world would spin on. Sometimes she'd remember a hair tie.

* * *

There was nothing like almost getting murdered by a best friend who had shifted into a werewolf.

Literally, nothing.

But Stiles supposed he would have to get used to it.

He'd also half expected Nora to be at their practice like she'd been last year. But she wasn't.

Stiles would have to get used to that too.

There were all kinds of places in his life that had a missing piece in them now. Scott's too, he knew. Stiles had hoped that when he saw Nora again he would see those pieces on her face somehow. But he hadn't gotten the feeling she missed him at all. Maybe that meant she wasn't hurt anymore, which was good. But it also meant that they were done. Nora Morrissey wouldn't be his friend again. At best, she'd be his grudging ally in trying to deal with werewolf bullshit. If that. But, that had been all he had asked for.

Stiles spotted her at her locker. She'd moved it after the break up, to be with Jessica's and Mei's and all of her other friends. Lucky for him they weren't there to give him murderous looks as he walked up. He wasn't sure if he was more harrowed by having almost been murdered by Scott or, that for the first time in months, he was going to talk Nora at school.

"Hey." He said.

Nora shut her locker and looked at him. There was nothing on her face.

"Scott just tried to kill me." He told her.

Nora's eyes widened. There was something.

"Did you provoke him?" She asked, dead serious.

Before, Stiles would have assumed she was messing with him. Now, he wasn't sure.

"Yeah, I started asking him about his father and told him he'd never find love because his jaw is uneven." Stiles said, a little sharper than he'd intended. "No, I didn't provoke him. Jackson did, but all Scott did to him was dislocate his shoulder."

Nora started walking down the hall, holding her books to her chest.

"I heard about that." She said. "What do we do to help him?"

There it was again, the "we".

"I have no idea." Stiles sighed.

Nora nodded and stopped in front of her math class.

"Well, I'm planning on spending my whole night on the internet, searching for any legit looking information on werewolves." She told him.

Stiles couldn't tell when Nora was lying to him, because she almost never had. But she wasn't the "research from a desk" type.

"Okay." Stiles said. "You know about the body, right?"

Nora looked at him, and her narrowed eyes said enough. There was one newspaper in Beacon Hills, and one news channel.

"Do you know more than I do?" She asked him, her head tilted a little to the side.

"Derek Hale is a werewolf." Stiles offered, pretty sure she'd guessed that already.

"Who is a murderer and who lost his whole family in a tragic fire." Nora said.

So she knew as much about the Hales as he did.

When Stiles didn't say anything else, Nora stepped into her classroom, taking her place at the front of the room. Her nose was already in her notes, or at least that's what it looked like. He walked away, heading for his own class. Nora was his grudging ally. It was a start, and Stiles hoped it wouldn't be where it stopped. He'd have to apologize, though, eventually. But Stiles had no idea how.

* * *

Nora had thought about what she'd say when she saw Scott again properly. But she couldn't come up with anything good.

She went with, "I'm going to do some werewolf research tonight."

Scott whipped around, smacking his forehead on his open locker. Nora opted to ignore that blunder, as she always did with Scott.

"Oh." He said. "Hey."

Looking Scott in the eyes for the first time in months was almost worse than looking at Stiles. Because he hadn't hurt her, she'd been the one to do the hurting. Still, Nora could see that he missed her, forgave her. She wished Scott would have yelled at her. She wished he would tell her that she and Stiles were being stupid and that she should come back. She was his best friend too and she couldn't just walk away. He hadn't done any of that, he never would. And Nora hadn't left them over something stupid.

"So don't worry." Nora added, knowing those words were worthless as soon as they'd left her mouth. "I'm on it."

Scott gave her his lopsided little smile and shut his locker. Nora walked with him towards the doors.

"I hear you saved Allison from Stiles." He said.

She let a laugh, quiet and bitter, bubble up from her chest.

"Well, a little." Nora said, shaking her head. "He rang her doorbell like one million times."

"How are Marisa and Isabelle?" Scott asked, holding open the door for her.

"They're good." Nora said. Talking about her sisters came easily. "We're re-reading Harry Potter together."

"Together?"

Nora rolled her eyes along with her whole body. "It's a nightmare."

"Doesn't sound like it." Scott said, yanking his helmet from his backpack.

Nora shrugged.

"How's your mom?" She asked him, searching his eyes for whatever was behind what he said.

"She's busy." He said.

That usually meant Melissa was picking up extra shifts, working herself to the bone because she had to. Because no matter what Scott's dad's income might be, they were better off without him. Nora knew what that was like. Not so much the income part, she was lucky, but being better off.

She grabbed Scott's shoulder, and he stepped away from his bike, his helmet hung crooked on his head. Nora straightened it and pulled him into a hug, hoping it said a lot of the things she couldn't put into words. Her throat was tight as she did it.

"I'm sorry." Nora said.

"It's okay." Scott said.

She stepped back from him, staring up at him. He'd grown since she'd seen him last and it was hard to imagine the kid she'd introduced herself to almost ten years ago. Nora was craning her neck up to meet his eyes. She clipped his helmet.

"It's not." She said, the words were under her breath but she knew Scott heard them.

He smiled at her again and moved to get onto his bike, this time he stopped himself and turned to her. His face changed, Scott's familiar smile was nowhere to be seen.

"Did Stiles tell you about the hunters?"

No, Stiles had not.

* * *

Learning that Allison Argent's father was a werewolf hunter ruined Nora's after school plans. She was going to swim laps like she did every other day and then park herself in the local library. The librarian, Mrs. Collins was ancient, and a gossip. If anyone knew anything interesting about the Hale family, she would. But Mrs. Collins would have to wait. Befriending Allison Argent seemed like a better idea. It wasn't like Scott was going to try and wheedle family information out of Allison, he was smitten.

As Nora approached Allison at her locker she spotted Lydia Martin coming towards Allison from the other direction. She had hoped Lydia would have joined Jackson at the hospital after he was carted off of the field that morning. She had not. It wasn't like Nora had any personal grievances with girl herself, but she knew people assumed they didn't like each other. Nora was popular because she was friends with everyone. Lydia was popular because everyone wanted to be friends with her. So there was some odd unspoken understanding that Nora Morrissey and Lydia Martin weren't friends. A decision that to Nora's knowledge, neither of them had actually made.

This was how Nora justified walking up to the most infamous girl at her school, the one her ex-boyfriend was head over heels for, and smiling at her like they were old friends.

"Hey Allison." She said brightly, like this was normal. "How was your weekend?" Her eyes flicked to Lydia and Nora wished that that for once, her gaze wasn't so unnerving. "How's Jackson doing?"

Her heart was beating wildly in her throat, so loudly that she was sure the other girls could hear it. It would be easier if Lydia weren't there, studying her like she was under a microscope. Nora wondered what her reputation was, what she looked like to Lydia. She wondered if Lydia knew how much pain Nora had gone through because of her, well, because of how Stiles felt about her.

"He's fine." Lydia's voice was sharp and lilting. "But now it's up to Scott to win on Saturday." She said, her hazel eyes flicking between Allison and Nora.

Allison shut her locker and started towards the doors, Nora and Lydia fell into step beside her.

"You said you were friends with Scott, right?" Allison asked.

Nora nodded, trying to divide her gaze between the other girl's faces, hoping she wouldn't start staring like she sometimes did.

"Is he alright?" Allison asked her. "He said he had an attack of something."

There was an edge to Allison's voice that said she wasn't sure if she believed him. Nora couldn't blame her.

"He used to have a lot of problems with asthma." She told her. "That was probably what happened."

"I didn't know asthma symptoms included ditching your date at a party where she doesn't know anyone." Lydia said as they made their way towards the parking lot.

"Well, people who can't breathe do some crazy things." Nora said, letting her eyes flick to Lydia and hold her gaze for what might have been a second too long.

Lydia was probably just looking out for her friend, but so was Nora.

Lydia didn't respond as they watched a red truck pull up to the curb. Allison glanced at them both before saying goodbye and darting towards it. A man who must have been her father stepped out to greet her, no crossbow in sight. Nora waved.

With Allison gone Nora was left standing next to a girl she had nothing to say to. Lydia turned to her.

"Allison and I are going out after the game, depending on how it goes." She said. "You should come."

It felt more like an instruction than an invitation, and Nora couldn't begin to guess why.

"Sure." She said, knowing it would be criminally stupid to say no.

Nora glanced around the fast emptying parking lot. Jackson's Porsche was still sitting in its spot, but he was at the hospital.

_Shit._

"Do you need a ride home?" Nora asked before she really thought about it. "My step-mom is picking me up, and I live on Crescent, it wouldn't be hard to drop you off."

She watched Lydia's eyes flick to the same empty Porsche. She pursed her lips. Nora couldn't tell if Lydia was annoyed with Jackson being injured or the fact that Nora, a girl she barely knew, noticed she needed help.

"Fine." Lydia said, slowly looking her up and down. "Are you're boots leather? You should treat them."

Nora sighed and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. Sofia was a few minutes away, having picked up Isabelle and Marisa from the middle school. But Nora could tell already, it was going to be a long wait.

* * *

The rest of the week passed slowly. It was broken up by Jess dumping her on-again, off-again boyfriend Neil for what felt like the billionth time. And Nora nearly broke her foot with a kettlebell after school on Thursday. The last day of the school week would have been welcome, if not for the impending doom of Saturday's lacrosse game.

Nora came to school late, having spent the morning at the dentist, to wild rumors about why Scott McCall didn't want to play first line. Her personal favourite was that he couldn't play because he'd secretly been using a look alike to play well, and when the spotlight was on him tomorrow, everyone would find out. It was ridiculous, and only about four people believed it. But it made the truth a little easier to bear.

Scott could shift on the field and hurt someone, or at the very least, reveal what he was to the entire school.

It was bad. Made worse by Derek Hale, and Nora didn't even know what he looked like, threatening to kill him.

She made her way to her locker, weaving through the crowds of people racing out of their first class and reluctantly getting ready for their second one. She heard Stiles before she saw him, recognizing his quick footsteps coming up behind her. Nora turned around.

"What's the crisis now?" She asked.

After all, Scott was trying to date the daughter of a man who wanted him dead, couldn't control his transformation, and had Derek Hale breaking into his house to threaten him. The bullshit was non-stop.

"My dad's here." He said.

That didn't seem like a big deal at all. But she followed Stiles as he grabbed Scott and dragged him across the hall, around the corner from Sheriff Stilinski.

"Tell me what they're saying." Stiles said.

Scott gave Stiles a resigned look before turning towards the Sheriff and his deputies. Nora stood, peering around Stiles, hoping his father didn't see her with him. If he did, she doubted she'd have the opportunity to explain to him that no, she and Stiles were not friends again, and that she was just helping Scott.

Stiles hit Scott's shoulder.

"Can you hear him?" He asked.

"Not if you're yelling in his ear." Nora hissed.

Scott shushed them both.

"Curfew because of the body." Scott told them, turning away from the Sheriff.

Stiles stepped back, raising his arms in frustration.

"Unbelievable." He said.

"What?" Nora quirked a brow. "That there's a curfew?"

"No." Stiles rolled his eyes. "My dad's out looking for a rabid animal while the jerk-off who actually killed a girl is just hanging out, doing whatever he wants."

Scott leaned back against the wall, and Nora stood while Stiles paced around. Three points on a triangle.

"We can't exactly tell your dad the truth about Derek." Scott pointed out.

"I can do something." Stiles said with a worrying amount of confidence.

"Like what?" Scott and Nora said at the same time.

Scott looked at Stiles in disbelief. Nora was glaring at him.

"Like find the other half of the body." Stiles offered.

"Are you fucking kidding?" Nora said as Scott said the same thing, minus the expletive.

But if Stiles heard them they didn't know. He was already racing down the hall. She and Scott exchanged glances, the familiar questioning look of "which one of us gets to stop him?" Nora was about to suggest Scott go after him when he turned away from her and began storming down the hallway. She looked and saw Lydia introducing Allison to some of Scott's teammates. Nora sighed. Driving home with Lydia hadn't been that bad. Marisa and Isabelle had done most of the talking about the teachers they hated. The same ones that everyone, including Lydia, had despised when they were in middle school. But the Lydia Nora was looking at now was the one she knew far better than the one gossiping about Principal Turner with her younger sisters. This Lydia Martin was petty, and ruthless to a degree that Nora could almost respect. And right now, she was Scott's problem.

* * *

Nora hadn't been able to find Stiles and she wasn't going to call him. Unblocking his phone number was hard enough, and she'd only done that in case of werewolf related emergencies. Or at least, that's what Nora had told herself. The pain in her chest whenever she was with Stiles was made better by Scott. When it was the three of them, it was almost like normal. Scott tempered the tension between them.

Nora scowled at her English assignment.

Scott shouldn't have to be the barrier between them. None of what happened should have happened in the first place.

Nora thought about that a lot. She would go through "what if" after "what if"; wondering what would have happened if they'd done something else the night they broke up. What if she'd dyed her hair red in the summer before coming home? What if she'd never told Stiles how she felt in the first place?

That was the big question.

If Nora had never done that, if she'd let her feelings fester and then maybe fade, nothing would have happened. Maybe she'd have a different boyfriend, though she couldn't imagine ever loving anyone else as much as she'd loved Stiles. But Nora knew that was wrong, and stupid, and a sign that she wasn't quite over him. She would be, one day, hopefully soon. What Nora didn't know is that if spending time with Stiles made it easier or harder to imagine going back to being friends. The only answer was to spend more time, to hurt more and more until she didn't.

What utter bullshit.

As if on cue, her phone blasted the sound a lightsaber made as it was being turned on. Her custom ringtone set for whenever Stiles texted her. Nora hadn't heard that sound since she'd blocked his number, so she hadn't thought to change the tone.

Her eyes burned as she picked up her phone and opened it.

_**going to the hospital so scott can get the scent off the first half of dead body. we're gonna pick you up? 5 mins.** _

Nora couldn't believe that was a text she had actually received. Scott and Stiles were going to break into the morgue. She wasn't going to miss that.

_**Fine.** _

* * *

Stiles watched Nora climb into the backseat without a word. It was the little things that were painful reminders of everything that had changed between them. Before, whenever Nora had to sit in the back, no one ever heard the end of it. She was silent now, scrolling through her phone. Nora would have been less distracting if she were talking, or at least looking at them in the weirdly long way that she used to. It was like having a ghost in his car, making it hard to remember he had to stop for stop signs.

They got to the hospital in record time though.

He and Nora followed Scott down to the morgue. But it wasn't like they could all go. He and Scott had talked about it. Scott would go, do whatever weird werewolf thing he had to do to remember what a dead body smelt like, and he and Nora would keep watch and wait.

"Good luck, I guess." Stiles said as Scott disappeared through a door.

He turned to Nora who meandered towards the waiting room. Stiles watched her stop and stare at something. He turned and saw Lydia Martin, sitting in a waiting room chair about three feet away from him. Stiles didn't look at Nora. He didn't want to see her face. Instead he whipped around, grabbed a random pamphlet and threw himself into one of the seats around the corner from Lydia. Stiles' heart was hammering. He didn't know if it was because Lydia was sitting right next to him and he could, theoretically, turn and talk to her. Or if it was because of Nora, who was walking away from him to sit on the other side of the waiting room, decidedly not speaking to him.

This was a mess. A shit show. Absolutely catastrophic.

He stood back up and leaned on the receptionist's desk. There was his ex-girlfriend who definitely didn't want to speak to him, and Lydia Martin, who only probably didn't want to speak to him. Stiles ran his hands over his head, feeling himself actually start to sweat. It was ridiculous. He glanced at Nora, who used to be his best friend in the world, who used to be in love with him, who he used to- Stiles didn't want to think about whatever he used to feel for Nora. She'd broken up with him.

He tapped his foot on the floor.

Nora had broken up with him.

And, Stiles thought as he turned to look at Lydia, she was right to do it.

He braced his arm against the wall. Stiles didn't know if Nora was watching him, if this went well he hoped she wasn't. If this went terribly, well, maybe she'd laugh.

"Hey, Lydia." Stiles said, garnering no response. "You probably don't remember me, um; I sit behind you in biology?" He continued. Lydia was looking at him. That was a start. "Uh, anyway, I've always thought that we just had this kinda connection? You know, unspoken, of course, maybe it would be kind of cool to get to know each other a little better?" Stiles kept hearing himself talk, but honestly, he was pretty sure he was having an out of body experience.

"Hold on, give me a second." Lydia said, and she pulled a Bluetooth earpiece out of her ear and looked up at him. "I didn't get any of what you just said, was it worth repeating?" She asked him.

"No." Stiles said, vigorously shaking his head. "Sorry."

He turned away from her and collapsed into a chair around the corner, picking the pamphlet back up so he could hide behind it. Stiles glanced over at Nora to find her staring at him wearing an expression he couldn't read. It was probably the "I can't believe you just did that in front of me" expression, and Stiles couldn't believe he had done it either. But one way or another, they'd both move on. In a second Nora was looking back at her phone. If she was hurt, or furious, or feeling anything at all, Stiles was sure he'd know. He used to know. Stiles used to be able to look at Nora and almost read her mind. His eyes fell to the floor.

Had she changed? Or had he forgotten how to know her that easily?

Stiles didn't have time to think about it because Jackson and Lydia were making out in front of him and his pamphlet was being ripped out of his hands. He turned to Scott, who had nearly scared him to death.

"The scent was the same." Scott told him.

Nora appeared next to Scott. Stiles jumped to his feet.

"You're sure?" He asked.

"Yes." Scott snapped.

Stiles sighed. This was nuts.

"So he did burry the other half of the body on his property." He said.

"Which means we have proof he killed the girl." Scott added.

"I say we use it." Stiles said, his eyes flicking between Scott and Nora.

He started down the hallway, back towards the door.

"What does that mean?" Nora asked, "Call crime stoppers?"

Stiles ignored that and turned back to Scott.

"Tell me something first." He said. "Are you doing this because you want to stop Derek or because you want to play in the game and he said you couldn't?"

Stiles didn't know what the truth would be, and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. He wanted to stop Derek, before there was some other girl torn in half and dead in the woods.

"There were bite marks on her legs, Stiles." Scott said. "Bite marks."

It was enough for him. Scott cared, and how could he not? He wasn't a monster, well, he kind of was.

Stiles' eyes flicked to Nora, wondering if she'd guessed what they were about to do next.

"Okay." He said, clapping Scott on the back. "Then we're gonna need a shovel."

Stiles heard Nora sigh.

* * *

Nora considered herself an athlete. She knew she didn't exactly look like one, because the whole world had decided that if someone didn't have a six-pack they weren't fit. But Nora was strong and she could run a mile in about seven minutes and maintain that pace.

Digging up a grave was still a bitch and a half.

Even Scott and his new found strength and stamina was getting winded.

Then her shovel hit something soft and got a little stuck and Nora wished she was still digging.

"Stop, stop, stop." Stiles said, having found the same thing she did.

They tossed their shovels out of the hole and she watched Scott and Stiles start brushing dirt aside with her hands. She bent down as they revealed something wrapped in cloth and tied with knots. Her hands shook with exhaustion as she helped them untie the ropes.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" Scott was urging.

Nora shot him a glare.

"I'm trying." Stiles said. "Did he have to tie the thing in about 900 knots?"

Scott helped them pull the ropes free and peeled back the cloth, it was something like burlap. Nora braced herself and looked down. Stiles and Scott jumped back, screaming. Her stomach churned.

"What the hell is that?" Stiles shouted.

"It's a dog." She said.

"It's a wolf." Scott corrected her.

"Same difference." Nora stood up. "It's not a girl."

"I thought you said you smelled blood!" Stiles said, still shouting. "As in human blood!"

Scott shrugged. "I told you something was different."

"This doesn't make sense." Stiles said.

What didn't make sense? How on earth was Scott expected to tell the difference between human blood and animal blood? He'd been a werewolf for about five minutes.

"Scott fucked up." She said. "It happens to the best of us."

"We've gotta get out of here." Scott said.

Stiles nodded and gestured towards the hole.

"Nora, get out, we need to cover this up." Stiles said.

She stared at him.

"No, I thought I'd stay in here." Nora said. "Maybe spend the night in the dirt with a dead animal."

Stiles opened his mouth to reply but Scott smacked him. Nora clambered out of the hole, collapsing onto the ground. She turned her head; next to her was a bright purple flower, the only one in the area. She felt like she'd seen it before.

"What's wrong?" She heard Scott say.

"You see that flower?" Stiles said.

"Yeah." Nora sat up and looked down at it.

She didn't touch it, when it came to strange plants, she knew better.

"What about it?" Scott asked.

"I think it's Wolfsbane." Stiles told him.

Nora leaned down, peering at it, the purple leaves, and the shape of it. It was aconite. She knew it because it was one of the many flowers that was poisonous for dogs, though she was pretty sure it didn't grow naturally in California.

"It is." She said.

"What's that?" Scott asked.

Stiles let out a sigh and Nora whipped around so fast to look at Scott her ponytail whacked her in the face.

"It's poison." "Haven't you ever seen Wolfman?" She and Stiles said at once.

While Stiles went on about Wolfman, Nora stood up and picked up the flower. Stiles darted over.

"There's rope." She said.

Stiles kept tugging at the rope while she held the plant in her hands, careful not to touch the flower itself. She followed him around in circle after circle until the rope led back to the dead wolf, except now, it was a girl. Her skin was mottled and pale, her hair matted. Nora gagged and turned away, dropping the flower as she did. Knowing she was digging up a body was one thing, doing it was a whole other. Nora leaned forward to put her head between her knees.

_This is so fucked._

* * *

The next morning, Nora ate her breakfast while the morning news blared in the living room. She knew that after dropping her off, Scott and Stiles had gone right back out to the preserve. They'd probably been out there all night, watching the crime scene techs and Derek Hale getting forced into a police car. She probably should have been there. She probably should be going to the game later that day and out with Lydia Martin afterwards. But Nora wasn't doing any of it.

She'd been back and forth to the bathroom all night throwing up. And when there was nothing left in her stomach she would wretch. Evidently, seeing half of a dead girl didn't agree with her, and Nora always had trouble with nightmares anyway. The only good thing to come of last night was that her whole family thought she had the flu. Marisa and Isabella left her alone and Sofia was making soup.

She felt bad. There weren't really any other words for it. She was being a bad friend to Scott, she'd lied to her parents about where she was the night before, and she felt sick whenever she saw Lydia or Stiles or any number of the happy couples at her school. She was being a bad friend to Jess for not engaging in her post break-up recovery even though she knew Jess would get back together with Neil anyway. Nora had about a million texts from a likely blackout drunk Jessica Reynolds about how she wasn't there for her. She loved Jess to death, but the girl had a flair for the dramatic.

Worse was the radio silence from Scott and Stiles, really, more from Scott. He would play tonight, and he wouldn't look for her in the stands, Nora knew that. But she felt like she should be there. But Nora cheering on her two benchwarmers was so normal that she didn't want to do it.

She glowered at her toast, furious with herself.

If her whole life could go back to the way it was before, would she be happy? Nora didn't know. She doubted it, because it wouldn't fix what happened. She'd dated her best friend, gotten her heart broken, and now what? She was supposed to pretend it was fine? She was supposed to pretend that watching Stiles drool over Lydia Martin, or look at her, or do almost anything didn't make her heart feel like it was about to shatter all over again? Was she supposed to act like it hadn't meant anything?

Her eyes burned.

Stiles had been her first kiss, and Nora didn't think he even knew that.

* * *

_Stiles couldn't have heard that right._

_Nora was in love with him?_

_But she'd just said it._

_And now he had to say something back._

_He knew what the right thing would be. That he was in love with her too, and he was, in a way. Stiles couldn't imagine his life without Nora in it. He wouldn't want to. He saw her every day and phoned her on the days when he didn't. When she was gone he felt it in his chest, a physical ache telling him something was missing. Scott was his best friend, his brother. Nora was like if he had another half._

_And she was in love with him, something Stiles was pretty sure no girl was ever going to be, considering his luck._

_But maybe this was his luck._

_He had been looking everywhere but Nora._

_Stiles was looking at her now, watching her run one of her hands through her sun-bleached hair as she reached for the door._

_Stiles caught her arm._

_He could be in love with her. He wasn't sure he wasn't._

_So Stiles kissed her. And the same mouth that he was pretty sure had bit him once in the second grade was kissing him back. Stiles wound one of his hands through her hair without even thinking about it. It was longer than he was sure it had ever been._

_They broke apart and Stiles couldn't see anything but her eyes, strange and familiar at the same time. She was smiling with her whole face. He didn't see that often, Stiles didn't think anyone did. He shared her grin; the hand that had been in her hair was on the back of her neck. His other was on her shoulder. Something warm was bursting in his chest, the same something that was always there when Nora smiled like that. Like nothing had ever hurt her, like nothing ever would again._

_Maybe Stiles could make her smile like that every day._

_Maybe that was love. He hoped it was._

* * *

_**As always, hope you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated!** _


	3. Adjacent

**Happy Friday! Got any Buzzfeed Unsolved fans here, cause boy oh boy, tonight's a lit night for us. 4/20 who? Nah, tonight's for mothman.**

**Chapter Three - Adjacent**

* * *

 

_Stiles woke up with a pounding headache and ringing ears. He was hungover, that was to be expected. But that wasn't what had him sick and shaking and his heart beating out of his chest._

_Stiles couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like this. Like the ground had dropped out from under his feet. He was falling, and in a bad way._

_Stiles Stilinski had just broken his best friend's heart._

_And he hadn't done his own much good either._

_He didn't know what to do with the reality of that. The weight of it was sitting on his chest, making it damn near impossible to breathe._

_Or maybe that was the anxiety attack._

" _Do you love me?"_

_The look on Nora's face when she'd asked had been equal parts terrified and furious and Stiles couldn't get it, her, whatever, out of his head._

" _Do you love me?"_

_God, the way her voice had cracked when she'd asked it._

_And Stiles had fucking choked, and how could he choke on that? Of course he loved Nora. Her question was whether or not he was in love with her. Big difference. And Stiles didn't know._

_How was he supposed to know? He'd been waiting for the moment he looked at Nora and felt his pulse quicken and skip like it did when he looked at Lydia. He'd been waiting for his breath to stop when she walked into a room. He'd been waiting for the moment when he looked at Nora and he felt the intense desire to just know her, inside and out, like no one else ever had._

_But that was stupid._

_Because Stiles already knew Nora like that._

_And maybe knowing when he was in love with someone, properly, in love with them in a way they deserved, was harder than he'd thought._

_Maybe he wouldn't know until it was too late._

_And it was definitely too late._

_Maybe he was in love with Nora, if the paralyzing horror he felt at her hating him was any indication, well, Stiles didn't know._

_And he couldn't go to her with that._

_He couldn't go to her with how sorry he was. He couldn't go to her and tell her loved her after fucking not being able to say it the night before. He couldn't go to her and tell her he didn't love her._

_Because that wasn't true._

_He couldn't go to Nora._

_Was that it? Was that where he was landing? He was going to hide from this? From his best friend? From the greatest fuck up of his life?_

_He felt like this was the biggest mess he would ever make._

_And Stiles, Stiles who always had a plan or at least half of one, had nothing._

* * *

 

Stiles still had feelings for Lydia.

Nora had known that. But she hadn't had time to think about it.

So she dedicated her weekend to it.

Instead of getting back on Jess' good side for not being there for her through her twenty-somethingth break up with Neil. Instead of reading with Marisa and Isabelle or letting Sofia teach her to bake or doing anything to help Scott.

She thought about how Stiles had feelings for Lydia.

Nora hadn't wanted to, but this was what happened sometimes. One question could rattle around in her head for days on end, making it near impossible to do anything else but think.

Why can't her mother stay clean?

Why didn't they move to Boston instead of Beacon Hills?

Why did Stiles want Lydia?

Why didn't he want her?

She thought about it while she reorganized her bookshelf and did weights and walked Sox.

Mostly, she thought about how stupid someone would have to be to consider themselves in love with someone they didn't know. Nora was pretty sure she knew Lydia better than Stiles did, and she didn't see the appeal.

She thought about it until she was throwing up again.

Nora made herself stop by dragging her sorry self to the local library to talk to Mrs. Collins. Mrs. Collins, to Nora's astounding luck, had decided to take a vacation for the first time since the Jurassic period and would not be back until the end of the month. She and her husband were on a cruise.

This all brought Nora to Monday morning, another week of werewolves existing, Stiles being in her immediate vicinity, and Derek Hale not being arrested.

Because who would kill their own sister?

Nora was sure there were days when her Aunt would like to try.

And a wolf killed Laura Hale anyway.

Nora forced herself to get dressed like she actually gave a shit. It wasn't too hard, since most days she did.

That was something else Nora thought about a lot to.

Nora thought she was pretty. But it was hard not to wonder why it seemed no one else did.

She didn't get to ponder that, though, because as Sofia pulled into the school parking lot to drop her off, they were met with a crime scene. She had to be careful not to hit a deputy or a paramedic as she pulled up to the curb.

"What the hell is this?" Sofia wondered aloud.

Nora pointed to the back of a school bus, ripped to shreds and dripping blood.

"What the hell did that?" She asked.

Nora didn't answer, but she knew. If not Scott, then Derek Hale, if not him, then someone they hadn't met yet. This had to be the work of a werewolf, because Nora didn't think it could be anything else.

A deputy Nora didn't know tapped his wrist at them. Nora got the message and hurried out of the car. Sofia shook her head at the young deputy as she pulled slowly away from the curb, leaving Nora to stare at the warped bus.

"Miss, please get to class." She deputy said to her.

Nora rolled her eyes and headed inside.

_No I'd rather stay out here and smell all the blood._

"Asshole." She muttered.

Nora managed to get to her locker without Scott or Stiles careening down the hallway to give her some terrible news. But her locker was as far as she got. Stiles raced up to her, out of breath and from the looks of it, half out of his mind.

"Scott thinks he murdered Allison." He spat out.

"What?" Nora shouted, not sure she'd heard that right.

"He had a nightmare where he hurt Allison in a bus and well, someone got hurt in a bus." Stiles told her, his words blurring together with how quickly he was speaking.

Nora stared at him, hating how easily she stayed calm. It came second nature. If Stiles was freaking out, she would keep her head, and vice versa. That's what they did for each other.

And she still did it, even when she wasn't sure he deserved it.

"Dreams don't mean anything." Nora said. "Maybe there's a werewolf hive mind and it's just Derek murdering some other relative of his."

"A werewolf hive mind?" Stiles repeated.

Well, when he said it wide eyed and out of breath, it sounded insane.

Nora shrugged. She was sure it would take more than running on pure instinct to get Scott to kill someone. On the full moon all he'd wanted to do was protect Allison, and supposedly, the full moon was when the blood lust was at its worse. And if she didn't believe Scott would never hurt anyone, then by law of the universe, he probably would.

Nora didn't get a chance to say any of that to Stiles, because he was looking down at his phone.

"Oh thank god." He sighed. "He found her."

"You didn't really think Scott could kill someone, did you?" Nora asked incredulously.

Stiles looked at her.

"He's a werewolf." He said. His voice was low.

"We don't know what that means." Nora said to him, shoving her books into her backpack.

"Exactly!" Stiles shouted, garnering the attention of no one.

Nora opened her mouth to reply but she was cut off by the loudspeaker informing them that class would continue as normal. She sighed and shut her locker.

"I don't know what to say to you, Stiles." Nora said and turned away from him. "I have to go to math."

"You really don't think he would hurt anyone?" Stiles asked.

She could hear how tired he was, how worried.

"No." She said, bringing her eyes back to his. "I'm sure he couldn't."

_But I didn't think you could either._

She didn't say it. But Nora hoped he could see it on her face.

* * *

 

A person had been injured. Stiles couldn't argue that anymore. He and Scott had watched that man get carted into an ambulance, screaming and thrashing around on the gurney. But Stiles would hang on to the word "coincidence" for as long as he could. If Nora believed Scott would never hurt anyone, well, she knew Scott as well as he did. And Nora had a really long history of being right. There was also something comforting in her stubborn faith in things, there always had been.

"Dreams aren't memories." Stiles repeated himself as they headed to their usual lunch table.

"Then it wasn't a dream." Scott insisted. "Something happened last night and I can't remember what."

Stiles didn't know what that was like; he only had nights he wished he could forget. That was a whole different basket of terrible.

Stiles tossed his backpack at his feet as he sat down.

"What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?" He asked.

Even if he did, Derek had definitely killed his sister, even if they couldn't prove it. That wasn't someone Stiles wanted Scott to have as a mentor.

"Because," Scott said, "during the full moon he wasn't changed. He was in total control while I was running around in the middle of the night attacking some totally innocent guy."

Stiles wanted to point out that last night hadn't been the full moon, but he doubted Scott needed to hear that.

"You don't know that." Stiles felt himself say for about the millionth time.

He couldn't stop thinking about what Nora had said about Scott. Well, he couldn't stop thinking about how much he hoped she was right.

"I don't not know it." Scott pressed. "I can't go out with Allison, I have to cancel."

Stiles sighed. Allison wasn't their biggest problem, but he couldn't let Scott give up.

"No." He said, earning a look of exasperation. "You're not cancelling, okay? You can't just cancel your entire life. We'll figure it out." Stiles told him.

A tray smacked their table, and they both jumped. Stiles was pretty sure he was hallucinating, because Lydia Martin was at their table. But she wasn't looking at either of them; her eyes were across the room. And Stiles would be terrified if Lydia Martin was looking at him like that. He turned.

And it's Nora.

Because of course it was.

Lydia jerked her head down at their table.

Nora shrugged and cast her friends a confused look so convincing it must have been real.

Was this seriously happening?

"Figure what out?" Lydia asked as she sat down.

"Just homework." Scott said quickly.

Stiles heard himself make a noise of agreement, watching other people come to their table. Allison, Danny and Brian and Nora. Allison sat down next to Scott and Brian took the seat at the head of the table.

So Nora was stuck next to him.

This was probably the last thing she wanted.

But Nora smiled at Allison and Lydia like they were friends. Were they friends? They could have been, and it wasn't like Stiles would know.

He watched Jackson force Brian out of his seat.

"So I hear they're saying it's some kind of animal attack." Danny said. "Probably a cougar."

Stiles caught Scott's panicked look.

This was a nightmare.

"I heard mountain lion." Jackson corrected him, wearing the stupid smug look on his face he always wore.

Stiles hated Jackson, and he didn't think it was just because of Lydia. Jackson was an asshole, it was almost impossible not to hate him by virtue of what Jackson was.

"A cougar is a mountain lion." Lydia said flatly. "Isn't it?" She added.

Stiles watched Nora and Allison share a look he couldn't read. But he guessed it had something to do with how Lydia dumbed herself down for Jackson. Stiles couldn't begin to guess why she did that, or why girls did that at all. They would make themselves seem stupid for what? Some assholes' ego?

Stiles' eyes flicked to Nora and he remembered every feminist rant she'd ever gone on.

If he could make guesses as to why Lydia acted stupid for Jackson, Nora could write a dissertation.

"Who cares?" Jackson scoffed. "The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway."

Nora tensed beside him.

Stiles' noticed, and he knew Scott noticed.

When it came to Nora, if there was one thing he felt for her that would never change, it was the anger on her behalf that was like a living thing in his chest. Stiles felt like it was the least he could do, live with that. Because it was Nora that lived with the real pain of what her mother was, it was Nora that lived with the exhaustion of it. Stiles remembered once Nora telling him that she wasn't angry anymore. Stiles was. He felt like someone had to be.

"That's not funny." Stiles said, before he really thought about it.

"What?" Jackson said, eyeing him like he was daring him to keep talking.

"I said-" Stiles began.

"Actually," Nora cut him off, holding out her phone, "I just found out who it is."

She didn't look at him. But it was in a way that Stiles knew was intentional. It was the "shut the fuck up this isn't your place anymore" kind of silence.

They fell quiet as they watched the clip. And to Stiles' horror, Scott knew Garrison Meyers. He had been his bus driver. Nora ran her hands through her hair and sighed.

Okay, so they both knew this wasn't great.

"Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please?" Lydia asked. "Like, oh, where are we going tomorrow night?" She leaned forward, peering down the table at Allison.

Scott and Allison looked at Lydia like she'd spouted a second head.

"You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?" Lydia clarified.

Nora burst into a coughing fit that Stiles knew was just her laughing.

And yeah, he kind of wanted to laugh to. Because "hanging out" was very different from "date".

"We were thinking of what we were gonna do." Allison said carefully.

"Well, I am not sitting at home again watching lacrosse videos. So, if the four of us are hangout out, we are doing something fun." Lydia told them.

Watching lacrosse videos? Was that seriously what Jackson and Lydia did together?

The more he learned about the two of them together, the less Stiles understood what Lydia saw in him.

"Hanging out?" Scott said, his disbelief was written all over his face.

"You need a Q-tip there Scott?" Nora asked him.

Stiles was shaking his head at him.

"Do you wanna hang out, us, and them?" Scott asked Allison.

Yeah." Allison said, though she couldn't have sounded less excited. "I guess, sounds fun."

"You know what else sounds fun?" Jackson said, raising his fork. "Stabbing myself in the face with this fork."

Lydia snatched the utensil out of his hand, like she was almost afraid he might actually do it.

"That does sound fun." Nora said, just loud enough that Stiles was sure he was the only one who could have heard her.

Lydia began to insist that the four of them go bowling. Nora started to cough again and Stiles was trying hard to stop himself from smiling. Because this was turning into such a disaster that it was almost funny. Scott couldn't bowl to save his life, but there he was, telling everyone he could.

"How do you know we're not actual competition?" Allison said to Jackson, she nudged Scott. "You can bowl, right?"

Before Stiles could blink Scott had insisted he was a "great bowler" something he certainly was not. He felt himself look desperately to Nora, who was just shaking her head, a wide grin on her face. Well, at least someone was having fun.

* * *

 

Jess had so many questions about why Nora got invited to Lydia Martin's lunch table that Jess seemed to have forgotten she was pissed at Nora.

And it was driving Nora up the wall.

At least Mei and their friend Halle didn't seem to care too much. And Nora didn't quite understand why Jess thought it was such a big deal.

She'd sat adjacent to the "it" couple at their high school.

Big fucking deal.

Maybe Nora would care if she didn't have about one thousand bigger, more interesting problems.

"I don't know why that happened." Nora sighed. "I introduced myself to Allison as Scott's friend and I guess Lydia is trying to, I don't know, vet him."

After all, Lydia was sort of playing at being Scott's friend. Nora supposed she was still deciding if it was worth it.

"We heard you were invited to hang out with them after the game." Jess pressed.

"Yeah?" Nora said, staring blankly into her locker.

She worried if she looked at Jess she might smack her.

"And you didn't go?" Jess said.

Nora didn't feel the need to answer that. Obviously Jess knew she hadn't gone.

"Nora," Jess continued, "you could be like Cady from Mean Girls. You know, before she actually turned plastic."

Nora wondered how hard she would have to slam her head in her locker to bring the release of death. She turned to Jess, not caring how furious she looked. This was about forty seven levels of ridiculous.

"Jessica, what do you think this is?" Mei asked, incredulous.

Halle was looking at Nora. She caught her eyes and Nora could see her question without Halle needing to ask it. "Are you okay with Stiles?"

Nora didn't know.

Stiles had stood up for her. In a weird private way that only she, Stiles and Scott would know about. Nora didn't know if the intimacy of it made it better or worse. Either way, she wished Stiles hadn't done it. Because it was a reminder of what she knew but never thought about. He still cared about her. They still cared about each other.

But was it enough?

"I can't talk about this now." Nora snapped. "I'm late for class, and so are you."

Jess rolled her eyes. Mei gave her watch a panicked look.

"Are you guys friends?" Halle finally spoke.

Nora knew Halle wasn't asking about Lydia.

"I don't know."

* * *

 

Nora wasn't sure how she'd found herself breaking into what was essentially a crime scene. But she was pretty sure her friend being a werewolf had something to do with it.

The three of them clambered out of the jeep and followed Scott to the fence separating them from the bus. A thing Nora didn't mind too much being separated from. But she'd scale it for Scott.

"Hey." Scott said, stopping them. "Just me, someone needs to keep watch."

Stiles already had his hands on the chain-link.

"Nora can." "Stiles can." They said.

Nora scowled at Scott, wondering if she'd have to pull the "is it because I'm a girl?" card. That one always worked. But she guessed that soon enough that would stop working or it would change. The question would become "is it because I'm human?"

"How come I'm always the guy who has to keep watch?" Stiles whined.

Scott sighed and pulled Stiles off of the fence.

"Why is this starting to feel like you're Batman and I'm Robin?" He continued. "I don't wanna be Robin all the time."

"Too bad." Nora said.

She eyed the fence, wondering if she could get up it quick enough to avoid Scott. Scott shot her a glare.

"Nobody's Batman and Robin any of the time." He insisted, clearly frustrated.

Stiles frowned. "Not even some of the time?"

Nora watched them. Was she seriously hearing this?

"No." She said. "You're Han and he's Chewy."

They both turned to her. Stiles looked like she'd just given him a puppy. Scott didn't seem impressed.

"Because you have fangs." She told him.

Scott's eyes flicked between them both.

"Just stay here." He said.

Nora looked past him to the bus, still torn and bloody and not something she wanted to be in anyway.

"Oh my god." Stiles groaned and strode back to the jeep.

Scott began climbing the fence, leaving Nora standing in the parking lot and suddenly feeling very alone. Her eyes flicked to the jeep, and she'd have to get back in eventually. Reluctantly, Nora crossed the lot and climbed inside. Alone with Stiles for the first time since the night Scott turned. The silence was heavy, and Nora wasn't sure if she cared to break it.

"Am I really Han?" Stiles asked lightly.

Was he trying to joke with her?

"No." She told him.

And she certainly wasn't Leia.

Stiles scoffed.

"I could be Han." He said.

She could indulge him, and give him a long list of reasons why he was not Han Solo. But Nora didn't. She kept her eyes on the bus, waiting, but for what, she didn't know.

She heard Stiles' voice, and he was saying the words Nora had been dreading since they became friendly again.

"Do you remember-" He began.

"What?" She interrupted.

"-all that time we spent trying to get Scott to watch those movies?" Stiles kept talking like she hadn't said anything.

Nora would have laughed. Because it was the bane of their existence, trying to get Scott to watch Star Wars. But right now it was just another thing that reminded her of what the three of them had been, of everything she'd ruined.

"He still says that he doesn't like them-"

"and he's never even seen them." Nora finished without thinking.

"The closest we got was your birthday." Stiles reminded her. "You did that."

Nora remembered. She and Stiles had focused more on getting Scott drunk than they had on her own birthday party. Their thinking had been if Scott's will was inhibited he'd finally sit down and watch A New Hope.

"You forgot the plan and dragged him outside to look at a salamander you found." Nora said, almost grinning, something she hadn't done for real in a while. "I went into the den and he was gone."

Stiles laughed. It was a sound so familiar to her that she could have been remembering it and it would have sounded the same. There was the familiar pang that felt like a knife twisting under her ribs. The pain she'd gotten used to, and had named, it was the Stiles Pain.

Nora looked away from him.

And it was a good thing that she did. Because there were headlights pulling into the bus parking lot, likely police.

"Shit." She said.

Stiles started honking.

He'd probably attract their attention to them by doing that but Scott was already careening out of the bus and flipping over the fence.

"That was excessive." Nora said.

She didn't know how getting bitten by a werewolf gifted someone with gymnastics.

But magic was magic.

Nora crawled into the backseat as Scott wrenched open the door and threw himself inside, screaming at Stiles to go. They sped away, Scott keeping his eyes on the road behind them.

"Did it work? Did you remember?" Stiles shouted at him, still buzzing with adrenaline probably. Nora knew she was.

"Yeah I was there last night." Scott said. "And the blood, a lot of it was mine."

Nora's stomach lurched. Scott had been hurt. And she knew that he couldn't really get hurt, not permanently, not anymore. But he'd been in pain all the same.

"So you did attack him." Stiles said, paying more attention to the werewolf next to him than the road.

Nora looked at Scott. She knew him. She knew him as well as she knew Stiles or her sisters or Jess. He wouldn't have done it. She didn't believe it.

But she might have to.

"No!" Scott said.

Nora let out a breath.

Because if Scott had changed that much, soon enough they'd all be plagued by locusts.

"I saw glowing eyes in the bus, but they weren't mine." Scott continued. "It was Derek."

No great surprise. Not to Nora. He'd ripped his sister in half.

"What about the driver?" Stiles asked.

"I think I was actually trying to protect him." Scott said.

"Now that," Nora nudged Scott's shoulder, "sounds like you."

Scott smiled at her.

"Put on your seatbelt." She added.

"Wait, what?" Stiles said. "Why would Derek help you remember that he attacked the driver?"

"Because he's a psychopath." Nora snapped. "He's trying to loop Scott into his shit."

"Yeah," Stiles said, his eyes flicking her hers in the rearview mirror, "it's gotta be a pack thing."

"What do you mean?" Scott asked him.

"Like an initiation." Stiles went on. "You do the kill together."

"Gangs do it." Nora added.

"Because ripping someone's throat out is a real bonding experience?" Scott asked them, incredulous.

"Yeah, but you didn't do it." Stiles reminded him. "Which means you're not a killer! And it also means that-"

"I can go out with Allison." Scott finished.

Nora groaned.

"One track mind." She muttered. "All of you."

"I was gonna say it means you won't kill me." Stiles said.

If he heard Nora he'd ignored her.

"Oh yeah." Scott said, like he was just thinking of that for the first time. "That to."

Nora met Stiles' eyes in the mirror and she saw exactly what she was thinking reflected back to her.

Sometimes, Scott was an idiot.

* * *

 

Pulling away from Scott's house left Stiles with no one to talk to and far too much to think about. He was thinking about Nora, which wasn't that unusual. It was like even when she wasn't with him; she was there, rattling around in his head.

Mostly, Stiles was thinking about Nora's faith in things. Scott, herself, and she didn't talk about it much but Stiles knew she believed in God. And she'd had faith in him. Nora had had faith he'd been in love with her, faith that he wouldn't hurt her, that he wouldn't let her down. Because he had never as much, not until he did.

Nora still had all that faith, just maybe not in him.

Even after her mother had kept giving her hope and taking it away. After she'd moved from Encinitas to Beacon Hills so her father could start a family that Stiles knew that at the time, Nora was afraid she wouldn't really be a part of. He'd let her down. Werewolves existed. And Nora was still as standing as steady as she'd ever been, believing in things.

Stiles could never have said the same about himself. It was like Nora had her own internal compass, pointing her the right way wherever she went and no matter what she went through. For all the years they'd been friends Stiles felt like she'd been sharing it with him. Like if having faith in Nora was this weird bridge to having faith in other things.

Bad days would eventually bleed into good ones.

He wouldn't always be afraid of the dark.

He wouldn't always feel the loss of his mother like a gaping hole in his chest.

He'd felt it again today, her faith in things pulling him close to having faith in them to. She had said Scott wouldn't hurt anyone and Stiles had been close to believing her because she believed it. And Nora had been right.

Before Nora might have joked with him. "See, I told you. 'Believe that you have received it, and it will be yours'. I was right." And Stiles would have looked had her and told her that most things were just luck and coincidence.

Stiles didn't know what he'd say now, other than that he missed his compass. He missed his friend.

* * *

 

Nora didn't remember much about her fifteenth birthday. She mostly just remembered the morning after.

She and Stiles had fallen asleep in her bed, like how they used to when they were much younger and still had sleepovers. They'd woken up all tangled in one another and it hadn't felt strange then. But it was looking back, knowing how much more that moment had meant to Nora than it had to Stiles. Everything was like that between them now. Every glance, every word, it all meant more to Nora than it possibly could to him. Couldn't it? Because Stiles hadn't been in love with her.

The morning after her birthday, Nora had thought maybe Stiles could feel the same way she did. Maybe they were hurtling towards the classic love story of best friends falling in love.

Nora knew different now.

She locked her front door behind her and headed for the stairs. It was late, and it wasn't like Nora had too strict a curfew, but Sofia and the twins hated being woken up. Her father was still awake though, Nora knew because the light was still on inside his office.

She walked across the living room and tapped on his door.

"Yeah." He said.

Nora pushed open the door and sat down across from him at his desk. He had what looked like a million papers spread out in front him but his eyes were on his computer. Her father, Pete Morrissey, was a real estate agent. Which meant he spent a lot of time around people making massive life decisions. Sometimes, those people kept him up until midnight.

"What's up?" He asked her, his flicking to her and then back down to some papers.

Nora didn't really want to bother him, but there'd been something on her mind for weeks, since even before werewolves. It had to do with Stiles, and Nora didn't want to wait anymore.

Her eyes flicked to a photo on the bookshelf behind him, it was her mother in a hospital bed cradling Nora, newborn. For as long as Nora could remember, that photo had been there, no matter what was happening with her mom. Nora didn't know if she wanted him to have kept the picture because it was of both of them, or because it was the day she was born.

"How did you know when you didn't love mom anymore?" Nora asked.

Her voice had cracked.

Her dad set down his pen took off his glasses. He looked at her; his gaze was heavy like she figured hers was to.

Sox padded into the room and stuck her head in Nora's lap. Her father let out a short laugh. The dog had impeccable timing.

"It was never like that." He said after a long moment, scratching his beard. His voice was low. "There was a moment when I woke up in the morning and knew I couldn't let things go the way they had been. But that wasn't the same moment I didn't love her."

Nora guessed she'd had that the night she broke up with Stiles. She'd asked him if he loved her, and he hadn't said anything. How was she supposed to stay with him? After that?

"It was like learning." He continued. His voice was the same practiced steadiness that it always was when they talked about Nora's mother. "It was learning that I couldn't keep making the same mistakes over and over. It was really seeing what Jane was putting us, really you, through." Her father stopped and brought his eyes to hers and nowhere else. "I need you to hear this Nora, because you are every bit as stubborn as I am. Are you listening?"

Nora nodded and she allots braced herself.

"When someone breaks your heart once, they'll do it again."

* * *

 

_Nora woke up in her bed. Her room, normally shades of green, was grey in the morning light. And the only thing she could think about was her mother and the last time she'd seen her._

_It had been Nora's fifteenth birthday, well, soon after. And she always went to her aunt's for Memorial Day weekend._

_Her mother showed up, unannounced, and her Aunt Lily had stopped her at the door. Nora was pretty sure Lily didn't think Nora knew she'd try to come._

_She'd looked like hell, exhausted and hollow._

_She'd looked like Nora felt._

_Stiles was still in love with Lydia._

_Nora wrenched open her closet door, seized all she could and hurled the clothes across the room._

_It had to be shit like this that made people do heroin._

* * *

 

**As always, all feedback is welcome.**


	4. Compression

**Happy Friday! IDK if anyone noticed that the chapter last week got like updated/replaced like 3 different times but if that caused any inconvenience sorry about that. I have a Spotify playlist for this story and I tried like copy and pasting the link but it wouldn't copyright or something. IDK.**

**If anyone is interested in the playlist just search my username or profile or whatever on Spotify, its sjwaloon, and the playlist is called The Way Back.**

**Also just realized I have to write and upload all of season 1 by the seventeenth of June so that I can start working in the woods for 3 months with a clean conscience. So sometimes I may upload twice in a weekend cause gotta grind lol.**

**Chapter Four - Compression**

* * *

_There's nothing like a "you need to think about college NOW" assembly, especially not in the beginning of sophomore year, when graduation has never felt farther away._

_But at least it wasn't math class._

_Stiles' arm was around Nora's shoulder and she leaned her head back on him._

_And Nora was thinking about all kinds of things she knew she shouldn't._

_She thought about senior prom and what it would look like when they graduated and having their names under the superlative "best couple"._

_Because they were. And Nora knew everyone thought they were the best couple, but whatever. She was in love, and that gave her some leeway to think stupid happy thoughts. She had never been as happy as this, she didn't think. She'd remember if she had been._

_Nora thought about how her and Stiles would make it past high school and through college and even beyond that._

_Nora didn't have much of an idea of what she wanted to do after high school but she knew Stiles would be there. It was stupid and almost impossible and exactly what most teenagers in love thought. But she knew it. Nora knew it like she knew her own name._

_She knew it like she knew that Sofia had been married before meeting her father and that husband number one had been sleeping with other women the whole time._

_She knew it like she knew her grandfather walked out on her grandmother and never looked back and left two daughters behind. One of them ran away from anyone who loved her back and the other was a heroin addict._

_Nora would do better. She promised herself that._

_She glanced at Stiles, who she knew was not privy to the silent promises she made to herself. But Nora believed in him, and that had always been enough._

* * *

When it came to careening out of school at the end of the day, Nora did not fuck with the traffic jams in the main hallways. She went down the side stairs so fast she might as well have been throwing herself down them. They were almost always clear, because they almost always stank of formaldehyde.

She jumped down to the landing from three stairs up and spun around the corner, slamming right into a brick wall. She stumbled back, looking up.

Not a brick wall.

A person, leaning heavily on the railing, blood dripping from his hand onto the floor. He looked as pale and sallow as her mother did when she was using. Nora opened her mouth to scream. He hauled her to her feet and clamped her mouth shut with his hand. His skin was hot and clammy with fever. Nora gagged, revulsion crawling over her skin.

"Don't scream." He said to her. "Where's Scott McCall?"

So this was Derek Hale.

Nora shoved him back, the heel of her hand hitting hard against his chest. He stumbled back and hit the opposite wall without much protest.

So this was Derek Hale, and Nora wasn't impressed.

"I thought you people couldn't get hurt." She said, wiping her hands on her skirt.

Derek glowered at her, green eyes ringed with dark circles. His glare was not quite as intimidating as one from Sofia or the twins, but there was something else on his face. Something like surprise if surprise got angry. Derek Hale hadn't known she'd known about werewolves.

"Not usually." he said sharply, making a poor attempt at standing up straight. "Where's Scott?" He asked her again.

"Why?" Nora said, folding her arms over her chest.

She wasn't about to tell Derek Hale where Scott was without a good reason. He may not have bitten Scott or killed his sister, but he wasn't exactly friendly.

"Where?" He said again. His voice was ragged and low.

Derek took a small step towards her, still glowering. Nora just looked at him. If he was trying to threaten her it wasn't going to work. Derek didn't look like he could do a push up, much less do anything to her before she hit him again and started screaming.

"That depends on whether or not you're contagious." She told him. "I'm not about to give Scott distemper."

Derek gave her another furious look.

"Is getting shot contagious?" He snapped.

Nora looked down at his bloody hand. So the Argents had finally made another move. Rage unfurled in her chest.

"What do you want from him?" She asked, knowing what he'd probably say. He wanted Scott's help with healing him, and then with fighting back. "He won't help you." She said quickly. "He's not that stupid."

"You don't believe that." Derek said.

No, she didn't. Scott might not like Derek but Nora doubted he'd let him die. And now that Derek probably wasn't a murderer his offers to help Scott carried slightly more weight. Only slightly, considering Derek hadn't managed to do more than threaten Scott and tell him to quit playing lacrosse.

But what if they saved his life?

Nora seized the jacket clad arm that was leaking blood and she felt him wince.

"Don't make me regret this." She snapped and began dragging him down the stairs.

Derek yanked his arm out of her hand and tumbled down the last few steps, coughing as he did. He wiped his mouth and whatever he'd coughed up came away black. Nora pulled him to his feet before people noticed, shaking her head. Scott had made this useless jackass seem so terrifying Nora had actually been nervous to meet him. What bullshit.

* * *

Stiles tossed his backpack into the backseat, grateful he'd made it through at least one day without having to do any chasing after Scott, wolfed out or otherwise. He pulled out of his parking space, and he was the first one in the line out of the parking lot. Stiles could have jumped for joy. Before Stiles could make it out of the lot and be free, Nora jumped in front of the jeep. And Derek Hale, of all people, was in tow.

He slammed on the break, his heart hammering hard in his chest.

"What the hell is this?" He shouted, almost at no one in particular.

Of all the dynamic duos in the world, this was the one throwing themselves in front of his car. Stiles could have sworn this was a nightmare and not his actual life.

But Stiles knew how to tell the difference.

He watched as Derek crumbled to the ground and Nora casted him a glance that quite clearly said, "Get the fuck out of your car."

He stepped out and slammed his door as the people behind him began to honk. He was probably about to become the most hated kid at their high school, at least for a day. And it was all for his ex-girlfriend and Derek Hale.

"You've gotta be kidding me, this guy is everywhere." he said.

Nora didn't look at him. She just crouched next to Derek, trying to convince him to let her check his pulse, of all things.

"Can you at get up?" She asked him.

Derek glowered in response. Even from his place flat on his back on the pavement, Stiles was still afraid of him.

"What's the matter with him?" He asked, almost having to shout over the din behind them.

"What the hell?" Scott's voice came from behind them before Nora could answer.

"He's dying." Nora said.

She reached for his neck again and Derek batted her away.

"He's what?" Stiles asked, not sure he'd heard her right.

How could Derek be dying?

He watched Scott look to Nora, then to Derek. It was like Stiles wasn't even there. It was like nothing had changed between Nora and Scott. It was terrifying to think about how one person's world could change so much, and how no one else would really feel that shift.

He would have thought that was how Scott felt about being turned into a werewolf.

But he and Nora were right there with him.

A crowd had gathered now, wondering who exactly was stupid enough to hold up everyone at the end of the day.

"I was shot." Derek said.

It sounded like saying even that was exhausting him.

"He's not looking so good." Stiles said.

He was sweaty and pale, and blood oozed steadily from under his sleeve. A shot in the arm didn't sound like much to Stiles, not when he thought about all the worse places to get shot. But if Derek wasn't healing, then he was getting infected.

"Why aren't you healing?" Scott asked him.

Stiles tried to catch Nora's eyes, but she wasn't looking at him.

"I can't." Derek told them. "It was a different kind of bullet."

"We have to get him out of here." "A silver bullet?" Stiles and Nora spoke over one another, and he watched her shoulders tense.

Maybe it was a dumb question. But if werewolves being fucking allergic to silver was actually a thing, well, shouldn't they know?

"No, you idiot." Derek snapped.

"Wait, wait," Scott said, looking frantically to Nora, "that's what she said when she said you had forty eight hours."

"What?" "How long ago was that?" Derek and Nora asked.

It didn't even look like Derek had the energy to be angry Nora talked over him and it didn't look like she cared too much that he'd talked over her.

But then again, Derek was dying.

"Who said forty eight hours?" Derek asked.

Stiles ran his hands over his head. There weren't a lot of ways around how bad this was. Derek kept insisting that Scott needed his help, needed him. If Derek wasn't bullshitting them, they were screwed if he died. They were especially screwed if he died in the school parking lot.

"The one who shot you." Scott said.

"You were there?" Nora asked, shooting Scott a glance that managed to both be curious and concerned. It was the kind of look that only she managed to give, and really ever only to Scott.

Derek winced and his eyes flashed blue. Nora reeled away from him.

"What are you doing?" Scott asked him, looking around to see who was watching.

Stiles waved away some over curious freshman and gestured at Derek.

"Crazy." he mouthed.

Nora smacked him in the shin.

"Stop that." Scott pressed.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, I can't." Derek growled.

Like actually, he growled.

"Derek, get up." Scott said to him.

Nora stood up and hauled Derek halfway to his feet by the collar of his jacket, clearly not caring to wait and see if he could do it on his own. She tugged him over to the passenger side of the jeep with little protest from him.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked.

But he knew damn well what they were doing.

They were making Derek Hale his problem.

A problem he decidedly did not want.

Stiles watched as Scott propped up Derek while Nora climbed into the back, and then deposited him into the passenger seat.

"Uh, I don't want him." Stiles said.

"I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used." Derek told Scott.

Nora leaned forward through the seats, watching them.

Stiles may as well have been talking to lawn ornaments for all the indication they were giving him that they gave a single shit what he had to say.

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" Scott asked.

"Look?" Nora offered.

"She's an Argent, she's with them." Stiles heard Derek say as he looked around.

Jackson was striding across the parking lot towards them, probably to complain that his Porsche being in the vicinity of all these other, shittier, cars was bad for the paint job.

"Why should I help you?" Scott asked.

And Stiles could tell that no matter what Derek said, Scott would do it.

"Because you need me." Derek told him.

Stiles tried to catch Scott's eye and tell him that no, he didn't need Derek, but Scott wasn't looking at him and Stiles wasn't sure if it was true.

"Fine." He sighed and looked over at Stiles. "Get him out of here."

With a sigh Stiles got into his car that at the moment, didn't feel too much like his.

"I hate you for this." He said, and looked at Nora in the mirror. "Both of you."

Nora didn't respond. It was kind of a little thing to hate them for, and he didn't mean it, that was obvious. But Nora probably actually hated him. Which Stiles didn't know how to fix. His eyes flicked to Derek, who he also didn't know how to fix. Unfortunately, Derek was more pressing.

* * *

Nora watched Stiles toss his phone into the cup holder. He looked at Derek, who was wrestling with his jacket.

"Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats. Okay?" he said. "We're almost there."

Nora didn't bring up the question of where "there" was. She'd suggested a hospital. Derek had suggested she shut up.

"Almost where?" he asked.

He sounded like he was dead already.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Your house."

Derek seemed as happy about that as he did about being shot.

"What? No, you can't take me there." he said.

"I can't take you to your own house?" Stiles was incredulous.

"Not when I can't protect myself."

Stiles pulled over and Nora ran her hands through her hair. She supposed they could go to her house, but that would be a lot, too much, to explain.

"Could we go to a drugstore?" She asked.

Nora had yet to see Derek's wound but she was pretty sure she could smell it. Dying flesh had a pretty distinct odour. It was taking everything she had not to wretch all over the backseat.

"What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet, hm?" Stiles shouted at him. "You die?"

To her surprise, Derek shook his head.

"I have a last resort." He said.

Nora leaned forward between the seats.

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked, looking like he was doing everything he could with his hands to not hit Derek. "What last resort?"

Nora had an idea of what it could mean, and she didn't like it.

Derek pulled up his sleeve. Nora gagged and Stiles put his head in his hands.

"What is that?" He asked.

Though they knew what it was, the question was "why was it like that?"

"You should probably just get out." Stiles said, gesturing to the door.

Nora wedged herself between the two front seats as best she could and peered down at Derek's arm.

"You might have more time if we cleaned it." She said, searching Derek's face for any indication that he cared.

"Clean it?" Stiles scoffed. "Look at it!"

"I see it, Stiles." She snapped, whipping her head around to shoot him a glare. "I'm just trying to help."

"Start the car." Derek said. "Now." He told Stiles.

Nora pushed herself back into the backseat, watching as Stiles gaped at Derek.

"Just do it." Nora muttered.

Stiles gave her the same, almost offended, look.

And she got it. He didn't want to help Derek, Nora wasn't sure she wanted to either. But what choice did they have?

"I don't think you should be barking orders, with the way you look. Okay?" Stiles said. "And, in fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead." He shouted, punctuating almost every word with some kind of gesture.

Nora was pretty sure it was all the hand waving that was pissing off Derek the most. She could relate.

"Stiles." She said, but it was too late for a warning.

"Start the car, or I'm going to rip your throat it with my teeth." Derek said.

The two held each other's gaze for an angry moment. Stiles hated this. She could see it in every movement. But she didn't care.

He started the car and Nora leaned back, looking up at the ceiling of the jeep.

"There we go." She sighed.

She looked back to Derek as he collapsed into the passenger seat. He probably couldn't pull a hair off of Stiles' head in the state he was in. But his threat and Stiles' clear exasperation was enough. They were stuck, and Nora hated it as much as Stiles seemed to, but it was what it was. They were driving aimlessly around Beacon Hills with a dying werewolf and there was no better solution. Nora kept wondering how she ended up in situations like this, but she knew the answer. But it didn't particularly matter how she felt about werewolves being a major part of her life. It was what it was.

* * *

Nora was about forty nine different levels of sick of how pissed Derek and Stiles were getting at Scott. He was stuck in the Argents home, the people who were the parents of the girl he was dating, and who would kill him if they knew who he was. And the two jackasses in the front seats were acting like Scott was taking a long time on purpose.

"I think he turned off his phone." Stiles said.

Nora scowled at him, making sure to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror.

"I would to if you were calling me every four minutes."

Stiles turned and glowered at her and Nora looked down at Derek's arm. He still hadn't bothered to pull his sleeve back down and Nora couldn't not look at the wound. The smell was terrible, but she'd gotten more used to it than she would have liked, having been stuck in the jeep for what felt like a millennia. It was probably the shape of it that made her sick, an angry red circle leaking fluid, red lines crawling up the arm. She'd seen things like it before, smaller, but infection was infection.

Though Derek hadn't shot himself.

Stiles' phone rang and he seized it so fast he almost dropped it.

"Finally." He said into the phone. "What am I supposed to do with him?" He asked, not wasting a second of time or sparing any anger.

Nora was tempted to kick the back of his seat.

She couldn't hear what Scott said, but Stiles wasn't happy with the answer.

"By the way, he's starting to smell." Stiles whined. "Like death."

Nora looked at Derek, he was furious, but that seemed to be his normal.

"It's true." She told him.

"What about your boss?" Stiles asked.

Great. They were going to break into the animal clinic.

Stiles handed the phone to Derek with a sigh.

"You're not gonna believe where he's telling me to take you."

"We're gonna treat your distemper." Nora said.

She glanced at Stiles while Derek spoke to Scott. He was leaning against his door, scowling at his phone in Derek's hand.

"Think about this," Derek said, "the alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again, and next time you either kill with him or you get killed. So if you wanna stay alive, than you need me. Find the bullet."

It sounded like Derek was putting whatever strength he had left into urging Scott on. She moved to snatch the phone from him but he'd already hung up. Stiles took his phone back and started the car. He glanced back at her.

"Do you think he'd fit in one of the cages?" He asked.

Nora looked at Stiles.

"You might."

* * *

Stiles heard Derek collapse against the wall outside the animal clinic and he wasn't sure if at this point he was supposed to feel bad. He didn't. Nora seemed to, but she had a lot of extra space in her heart for giving a shit about asshole werewolves now that he wasn't in it.

Stiles wasn't entirely sure what he was pissed about.

But he was pissed.

His phone buzzed as he fumbled with the key and it was Scott, finally bearing news. He couldn't call it good news. Stiles wasn't sure if that was really a thing anymore.

"Does Nordic Blue Monkshood mean anything to you?" He asked, reading out the text.

He turned and Nora was crouched next to Derek, peering at him.

"It's a rare form of Wolfs bane." Derek said. "He has to bring me the bullet."

"Why?" Stiles asked without thinking.

But "why" was the only word on his mind lately.

"Cause I'm gonna die without it." Derek said.

And now that Stiles was looking down at him, pale and clammy and collapsed onto bags of dog food, the possibility of him dying was very, very real.

And maybe Stiles was a bad person, but his first thought was "what would we do with the body?"

But when he glanced at Nora he saw real concern there, almost fear. And Stiles felt that tug again, to look at her and know what to do.

But he could know what to do and still not be happy about it.

He hoisted Derek to his feet and tossed Nora the keys.

They stumbled over one another through the dark until they burst into the exam room. He flicked on the lights in time to watch Derek pull his shirt off and toss it to the floor. Why? Stiles had no idea. Nora began rummaging through drawers collecting things in her arms as she did.

Derek leaned on the exam table, laying his arm across it.

It was disgusting. It was almost worse than Laura Hale's body.

Stiles had spent a lot of time in hospitals, and even he had never seen anything that looked quite like that. The flesh on Derek's arm was riddled with dark lines and blood was oozing down towards his hand. The smell was a whole other story. Derek's arm was rotting.

"You know," Stiles said, praying Derek wasn't about to ask him to touch him in any way, "it doesn't look like anything some Echinacea and a good night sleep couldn't take care of."

"When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me." Derek breathed out, unsteady on his feet.

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles said.

He couldn't see Nora, only hear her flitting around the room acquiring first aid supplies Stiles was sure that at this point were useless.

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet on time," Derek said, wrenching open a drawer and pulling something out, "last resort."

He'd mentioned his last resort, and Stiles had spent the better part of three hours wondering just what the fuck that could be. There were only so many ways to bring someone back from the brink of death. And Stiles doubted an animal clinic had an AED handy.

Derek lifted a saw from a drawer and plopped it onto the table. The sound echoed through the room. Stiles' stomach lurched just at the sight of it.

"You're gonna cut off my arm." He said.

Nora dumped everything from her arms onto the table, Stiles recognized bandages and rubbing alcohol and not much else. But he was grateful for the distraction, because he was sure he was about to throw up.

"He's not the one to ask to cut off your arm." Nora said like it was nothing. Like discussing who would be performing an impromptu amputation was normal for them.

But Nora was like this. Shit hit the ceiling and she looked at it and did something. Like wielding an alcohol soaked cotton ball.

"You're not cleaning this." Derek said, looking at her with nothing but disbelief.

If Derek didn't have the energy to be angry, well, he really was dying.

"Why not?" Nora said, scowling. "It smells, and it's not like you're in a position to say not to medicine."

"That's not medicine." Derek said.

Nora tossed the cotton ball down and collapsed into an uncomfortable looking metal chair in the corner.

"Die then." She said, eyeing the saw. "But before you do, could you tell us how to help Scott?"

Stiles looked between them, Nora's hard gaze meeting Derek's. He was pissed again.

"You two," Derek said, punctuating it with a glance at Stiles, "can't do anything."

Stiles didn't want to think he was right. They could help Scott. They could figure everything out. How to protect him from the alpha, and the Argents and himself.

But Stiles didn't think even Nora believed that, so how could he?

He watched her. She was staring at Derek, her eyes resting on him in the uneasy way that her eyes could rest on anything. Derek hadn't met Nora before today, as far as Stiles knows, so there's no way in hell he could be used to her eyes. It was like having two people looking at you, and neither of them were impressed.

"Not if you don't tell us how, we can't." Nora said, her voice still even despite Derek looking at her like it would be easy to shut her up permanently.

Stiles was tempted to step between them.

But if he did that, he was pretty sure Nora would be the one to kill him.

But she was getting under Derek's skin and Stiles could see it. Stiles was sure Nora always knew when she should stop, but he was pretty sure she didn't care.

"The only thing that can get between two werewolves is another werewolf. So if you want to help Scott so much, get him and that bullet here, and shut up." Derek snapped, his voice the strongest it had been since they'd walked into the clinic.

Maybe having something to focus on other than his necrotic arm was good for him.

Stiles just wished that something wasn't Nora.

He glowered at Derek; his gaze mirroring the one Nora was giving him. But her face changed, it softened in a way Stiles hadn't seen in a long while. She tilted her head, still looking at Derek, studying him.

Stiles didn't know why, but he felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff.

"I'm sorry about your sister." Nora said.

Her voice was quiet and soft. She meant it. And if Derek knew that he didn't care. He was still scowling at her.

Fuck him.

Stiles didn't know what he'd give to have Nora talk to him like that again. A lot, probably.

"Didn't you hear the part about shutting up?" He snapped at her.

Stiles knew in some distant way that they needed Derek to live, but in that moment, he was sure he would have killed him himself.

* * *

Derek didn't want to wait any longer, and Nora didn't either. She fastened a makeshift tourniquet with rope she'd found in the store room and a pair of deadly looking scissors. She'd been surprised Derek let her do it.

"I won't twist it yet." She said, tightening the rope as much as she could with her own hands. "Not until you've actually decided you want to-"

Derek slid the saw across the table towards Stiles, who shoved it back.

"I'll twist it." He offered, eyeing Derek's arm.

Nora wasn't about to cut off someone's arm, not without a fight. She had a stronger stomach than Stiles, but that didn't say much.

"You don't know how." She protested.

"It's not that hard, you twist it!"

Derek picked up the saw.

"I'll do it myself." He said. "And I don't need the tourniquet."

Nora yanked it out of his hands.

"You'd pass out from pain first." She said to him. "And then why'd you let me put it on you?"

Derek just glowered at her, but it didn't matter. Nora knew she was right. She looked at Stiles, who was getting paler and if possible, more jittery, by the second.

"Because you're annoying." Derek snapped.

"Look," Stiles said, leaning heavily on the examination table, "I don't know if we can do this."

"Why not?" Derek asked. "She seems fine with it."

"I do seem that way." Nora said.

Stiles was gaping at her and Nora didn't have anything to say to him. She was probably going to have to cut off Derek's arm. That was her life now. She managed to go through one day of school without hearing about werewolves and this was how she was punished.

"Because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood!" Stiles went on.

Derek let his arm fall dead on the table.

"You faint at the sight of blood?" He asked incredulously. "She won't."

Nora didn't like being referred to as 'she' but it did occur to her that Derek might not know her name. Not that it mattered.

Nora didn't ask how Derek knew she wouldn't faint at the sight of blood, but it probably had something to do with the fact that she was girl

Stiles rolled his eyes.

"No, but I might at the sight of a chopped off arm!" He shouted.

Derek sighed, and Nora wasn't sure how she was going to fair either.

"Fine, how 'bout this? Either you cut off my arm or-"

She was sick of hearing him threaten them. Nora picked up the saw.

"I'm cutting off your arm." She said, throwing up her hands and reaching to tighten the tourniquet.

Before she could, Derek leaned over the side of the table and wretched.

"Holy God, what the hell is that?" Stiles asked, stepping away.

Whatever it was, it was black, and it stank of blood if blood could go sour. She gagged.

"It's my body trying to heal itself." Derek choked out.

"Well it's not doing a very good job of it." Stiles remarked.

Derek turned to face her, dripping sweat and his lips still coated with whatever he'd just coughed up.

"Now, you have to do it now."

He leaned on the table, holding out his arm. Wordlessly, Stiles walked around and twisted the scissors, tightening the rope around Derek's arm.

"Are we all sure about this?" He asked.

But he was looking at her.

And him asking if she was sure made Nora almost want to do it.

She seized the saw and held it to his arm, just above the rope. And Nora couldn't help it, she said the Hail Mary.

"Stiles?" Scott's voice sounded from the back.

Nora reeled away from Derek.

"Oh thank God." Stiles sighed.

"Yeah." Nora said.

Though she really meant it.

Scott appeared in the doorway and stared at the three of them. Nora wondered what they must look like to him. Stiles, about ready to pass out, Derek and his makeshift tourniquet on death's door and her, holding a saw in her shaking hands.

"What the hell are you doing?" Scott asked.

Nora didn't think she'd ever been more relieved to see him.

Stiles let out a laugh.

"Oh you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares."

Nora did the sign of the cross, muttering the words under her breath. She never brought up her faith around Scott or Stiles, not usually. But the circumstances seemed to warrant it. Someone had to be thanked for Scott's timing. She braced herself against the table, shaking with every breath.

She would have done it. She would have chopped off his arm.

Nora didn't know what to do with that knowledge.

"Did you get it?" Derek rasped.

She watched Scott fumble the bullet out of his pocket and hand it to Derek.

"What are you gonna do with it?" Stiles asked.

Derek answered by crumbling to the floor, the bullet rolling away. Scott chased after it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Nora shouted, glancing up at the ceiling.

That could not have just happened.

She fell to her knees next to Derek and leant down over his chest.

"He's not breathing." She said.

"He's not breathing." Stiles repeated.

They shared the same dumbfounded tone.

But it didn't last.

Nora started compressions, good ones. Unlike most of the other kids in her first aid course, she had actually paid attention. She'd needed to perform CPR before and not known how, well; she would have been too young to do it anyway.

But she knew what to do now.

His skin was slippery and hot under her hands and she felt the cartilage threaded through his ribcage bend as she pressed down with all the strength she had.

Nora wondered how long she'd be able to do this.

As long as she had to, she supposed.

"You're not gonna give him mouth to mouth, are you?" Stiles asked, disgusted.

"What's it to you, Stiles?" She breathed out.

Because what the fuck was it to him?

Not that she wanted to, considering what Derek had just vomited up.

Her eyes darted to Scott, who was wedging himself under a cabinet. Stiles was yelling at Scott, maybe at her to, but she could barely hear him over the hammering of her heart.

Her instructor should have put more emphasis on how horrifying this would be.

Nora hit twenty compressions and felt his ribs crack. Her stomach lurched at the feel, at the sound, at the sight of the bruises that she could swear were already forming. Or maybe she was imagining them. Maybe it was too late.

Thirty.

"Fuck." She said and pinched Derek's nose, tilting his head back.

Derek snapped awake and shoved her back.

"You're welcome asshole." She shouted, her voice tearing out of her throat raw and furious.

Scott shot to his feet, holding the bullet.

Somehow, despite everything, pride burst in Nora's chest.

She watched Scott and Stiles haul Derek to his feet and she stayed where she was. The room was swaying a little, even from her place on the floor.

She'd never heard bone break before.

Derek was screaming, clutching his arm and a blue flame drifted up towards the ceiling.

"He burned the powder?" She asked.

Scott nodded.

Nora pushed herself back to her back was up against the wall. She rolled her head back against it.

She didn't even try to fathom how burning the wolfsbane would cure Derek. But magic was magic. She'd have to have faith in that the same way she did in Heaven and Hell.

Derek collapsed onto the floor in front of her, writhing in pain.

Nora watched. She'd brought him back from the dead, sort of, that didn't make her his nurse.

Derek's screaming came to a stop.

"That was awesome!" Stiles said. "Yes!"

If Nora was awestruck the feeling hadn't kicked in yet.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked, earnest as ever.

"Well except for the agonizing pain," His eyes flicked to her, "yes." Derek said.

Nora scoffed.

"Agonizing pain, my ass. I resuscitated you!"

Derek looked at her.

"Guess the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health." Stiles muttered.

Derek stood up and yanked off the tourniquet. The scissors clattered to the floor. Even Derek standing and looking at them was enough to back Scott and Stiles into the counter.

_Wimps._

"Okay we saved your life." Scott said. "Which means you're gonna leave us alone. You got that?"

Nora looked over at them. Scott couldn't be serious.

"If you don't I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad and-"

"Scott," She cut him off, "he just healed himself from that shot because he knew how. And you're trying to tell him to fuck off?"

Scott looked oddly betrayed.

"You're gonna trust them?" Derek asked. "You think they can help you?"

"I think they'll shoot you, Scott." She said flatly.

Stiles was staring at her, disbelief was written all over his face. Scott was crestfallen and Nora hated it because she'd done that, not Derek.

But what didn't they get? Were they all 'team Argent' all of a sudden?

If Derek could do, whatever he'd done, maybe he could help Scott. At the very least, Scott could learn from him.

Nora pushed herself to her feet and wiped her hands on her skirt.

"We don't have any proof they differentiate between one werewolf and another, Scott." She said softly. "I'm sorry."

Derek looked at her and for once he didn't look pissed she was speaking.

"They don't." He said, picking up his shirt from the place he'd discarded it. "I'll show you." He said to Scott.

Whatever Derek was going to show Scott Nora kind of wanted to see to, but she also kind of really wanted to go to bed.

* * *

The stench of Derek's dying flesh wasn't leaving Nora's nose and neither was the feeling of bone breaking under her fingers. She felt like his feverish skin was still under her hands, pale and slippery and-

Nora gagged and glanced at Stiles.

He didn't notice, his eyes were on the road.

She looked back out the window, knowing she would probably get sick again tonight. Nora would have to get better at hiding it, her bouts of "flu". Her family would start to think there was something actually wrong with her if it kept happening and they knew about it.

But it wasn't her fault that she kept running into all this dead flesh and that it didn't agree with her.

All it did was remind her of her mother's clammy skin and the needle that had been sticking out of her arm.

Nora took a deep breath and glanced at Stiles, hoping for the first time in a while that he would actually speak.

But his eyes were on the road, probably thinking about everything that had just happened the same as she was. They had just saved Derek Hale's life and it didn't seem like he was going to be any more pleasant than before hand and the Argents had werewolf killing bullets. Nora couldn't think about any of it and not think that she, Scott and Stiles were absolutely fucked.

Or Stiles was thinking about how she'd backed Derek up, sort of, and he wasn't happy about it.

But what did it matter? She didn't think she was wrong.

But Nora wasn't sure how to be right, not about any of what was happening.

"Why'd you bring up his sister?" Stiles asked.

His fingers were tight around the steering wheel and had that what he'd been sitting there stewing over?

She could have asked him why he defended her in that weird way from Jackson at lunch the other day. But she wasn't sure how that was related other than that it was a question that merited asking.

"People deserve to know that other people know they're in pain, Stiles." She said. "Even if they are shitty people."

Stiles shifted in his seat and ran one of his hands over what little he had of hair.

"I think he thought you were screwing with him."

Nora rolled her eyes. Of course Stiles thought that. God forbid she show their weird werewolf almost ally some decency.

She didn't say that though, Nora just thought of the look on Derek's face. She knew the difference between angry in general and angry at someone specifically. Derek had been pissed, but not at her.

"He had to bury his sister." Nora reminded him. "And we dug her up." She hadn't been able to get that out of her head since she found out Derek probably hadn't killed her. "And now Laura Hale is back in an evidence lock up, and you don't feel bad?" She continued.

Stiles was quiet for a long moment. His eyes just darting to his mirrors and back to the road again. If possible, his hands tightened around the wheel.

Nora was sure she couldn't have cut the air in this car with that stupid saw.

"I hadn't thought about it." Stiles said after a long moment.

She looked back to the road, watching them get closer and closer to her street. Rage was shuffling around in her chest, darting in and out between her ribs.

"Well, add that to the list of things you've never thought about." She snapped.

She couldn't help it because it was all right in front of her, everything that had happened between them. She felt it like a physical thing that could jump in front of this stupid jeep. They'd have to break for it, or maybe they'd crash.

His grip on the steering wheel was white knuckled and he seemed determined to look anywhere but her. Good.

"I can't stop thinking about it, Nora." He said.

It wasn't enough.

What couldn't he stop thinking about? About how he'd led her on? About how he should have known better? About how he probably wished his first relationship had been with someone else?

"Well I have." She lied.

But the lie came easily, and it was starting to come easier and easier. Sofia had told her that a lot of getting over a break up was lying to yourself until the lie became true.

She didn't miss him anymore.

She didn't hurt anymore.

She didn't love him anymore.

She was lying still, but she'd get there.

* * *

_Stiles hated dropping Nora off at her classes._

_It was stupid, because it was just over an hour that they wouldn't be together._

_But it was a shitty hour._

_Together._

_Stiles mulled over that word a lot. Because in a way, they had always been together. They have been together since she was introduced as the new student and sat down at the only table with empty seats. But now they were together in a way that held a lot more weight, a lot more permanence._

_And Stiles knew he should feel the burden of that, maybe he should feel like he was making a mistake._

_But he didn't._

_He felt everything he felt for Nora before he kissed her and something extra he didn't know how to name._

_But Stiles would see her face at the end of the hall, smiling, coming towards him, and it was the only thing he could see._

_He saw her now, and his bullshit chemistry class and the hell Mr. Harris was trying to put him through just sort of faded away._

_He met her in the middle and they turned to head towards their lockers, her pony tail bobbing as she walked just a step ahead of him, talking to Scott. He fell in line with them and swung an arm around her shoulder, twirling one of the strands of her ponytail between his fingers._

_The thing about before they weren't 'just friends' anymore was that it would have been weird to touch her hair._

_It wasn't anymore._

_Nora smiled up at him and then turned back to Scott, complaining about a reading assignment._

_She was in love with him._

_And Stiles knew he would get there._

_He was getting there._

* * *

**As usual feed back is welcomed! So yeah Spotify.**

**Username/Profile : sjwaloon**

**Playlist: The Way Back**

**Check it out, or at least give a listen to the song An Evening I Will Not Forget by Dermot Kennedy, it's fitting I think.**


	5. Inch By Inch

**Happy Saturday!**

**This one is short to make up for last chapter (not really that's just how the cookie crumbled). IDK how chapter 4 ended up over 7000 words, lol oops.**

**Like I said, sometimes I'll upload twice a weekend, because, no one wants a ten week hiatus in the middle of a 12 chaptered first part.**

**Chapter Five - Inch By Inch**

* * *

 

Nora snapped awake to the sound of her front door swinging shut. She'd been falling asleep all over the place all weekend. She hadn't managed to sleep through the night since the clinic.

She was sprawled on the living room sofa, curled around a half empty bag of pretzels, It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia re-runs blaring from the TV.

She turned and watched her family file into the house. The twins retreating to their respective rooms and her parents loitered in the kitchen, talking in low voices.

Not her parents, her father and Sofia.

Not that it mattered. Nora didn't know what made someone a parent, but she knew that part of her was still holding on out her mother.

Whatever.

She listened as they spoke about Marisa and Isabelle. It was parent teacher conference season, and the twins had stormed inside after returning from theirs.

Nora didn't feel the need to go into the kitchen and asked how they had gone; it was the same every year. Marisa was too quiet. Isabelle was too loud. Both of them would do so much better if they just put the effort.

Nora understood why it was important for them to try now. It was so that they knew how to do work properly when they were in high school, and everything mattered so much more. But Nora couldn't help but feel bad for her sisters, being asked to try and try and never having it be quite enough. They weren't straight A students, but even in the sixth grade, that was a hard thing to be.

Nora didn't think she was going to bother asking how her conference tomorrow would go. Like the twins, she got the same feedback every year.

She was social and hardworking and could try harder at math. Also, has she thought about joining the swim team?

She was going to join in her junior and senior years, so that she could put it on her college applications. But she didn't see the point in waking up at five in the morning now.

Even if Nora had to be worried about her conference, she wasn't sure she could have managed it. Not with "I can't stop thinking about it, Nora" rattling around inside her head.

Like, what the fuck did that mean? That he felt bad? Of course he did. Nora already knew that. Stiles had hurt her, that didn't mean she thought he'd meant to. But once the pain was inflicted, what did intent matter?

Maybe it did.

She didn't know.

Nora did know that she'd thought about talking about it with Stiles, the break up. The way they'd ended. But the thought threatened to break her ribs the same way she'd broken Derek Hale's.

And the thought just led her in a circle because what would be the point of talking about it, if nothing would change? Her heart would still be broken. He'd still hurt her.

And the first step in that conversation was 'sorry', and that wasn't Nora's step to take.

* * *

 

The next morning Beacon Hills High School was alight with rumours about the most recent attack, namely, how was the 'it' couple going to fare?

Jess had asked her if she thought Lydia was going to have a nervous breakdown.

Nora had told her that she didn't care.

"But I thought you were friends?" Jess had said, dragging the hell out of the word 'friends'.

Nora wasn't sure what exactly Jess' problem was. But Nora's locker was still next to hers, and she still sat with her friends at lunch, and participated in the group chat, and hung out with them every day she wasn't almost chopping off someone's arm.

Nora was plenty of things, but a bad friend wasn't one of them.

Jess, and Nora loved her, but Jess had some issues.

But Nora would spend months listening to Jess gossip, if it meant getting one day of peace. And since she hadn't seen Lydia, Jackson, Stiles, Scott or Allison, she might get it.

She did catch a stray balloon stuck to the ceiling around where Allison's locker was.

So she could put two and two together.

Scott skipping school to be with Allison on her birthday would have been cute if he wasn't failing almost everything.

When Nora watched Jackson stumble into the boy's locker room, she considered waiting him out and asking him about the attack. But what was Jackson going to say? That he thought he saw a werewolf? If there was one thing Nora could almost respect about Jackson was that he had his pride.

Then, on her way to her AP English class, Nora caught Derek Hale striding towards the side exit she'd led him through the other day.

What the hell was he doing here?

"What the hell are you doing here?" She called after him.

But he'd stopped walking before she spoke and it occurred to Nora that he probably smelled her coming or something else repulsive. With a sigh, she walked towards him.

She's almost gotten one day of goddamn peace before Derek Hale showed up and ruined it.

Nora hoped this wasn't going to become routine.

"Get shot again?" She asked. "Scott's not here."

Derek turned and looked at her. He looked healthy, but not happier. But she hadn't expected anything different.

"Shouldn't he be?" He asked.

Nora doubted his concerns had anything to do with Scott's grades. The familiar weight of anger settled in her chest. Scott was fifteen, and he had to be concerned about murder.

"Keep an eye on Jackson." Derek said flatly.

And well, he probably wasn't asking her to do that so she could mind his wellbeing.

"Did he get bitten?" Nora asked, fighting to keep her voice low.

Jackson was enough of a nightmare as a human. She didn't want him to have teeth and more bloodlust than he already did.

"Scratched." Derek said.

"Scratched." Nora repeated, searching his face for any indication of what that meant. She quirked a brow. "So?"

Derek was quiet; it looked like he was thinking. Which probably meant he was about to lie to her. Nora rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

"He could get in the way." Was all Derek ended up saying.

Nora looked back at him, frowning.

"Descriptive." She said flatly. "I'll make sure to have him killed than, or Gillooly him. Cause that's what I'm hearing."

Derek just let out an exasperated sigh and turned around, heading for the doors.

That was it?

No angry one liner? No threat?

"What's your tattoo mean?" She asked.

But the doors had swung shut, and she didn't particularly care what the spiral on his back meant anyway. Though she did wonder how he'd gotten it. A tattoo was a scar, a thing it didn't seem werewolves could have.

She headed back towards her class, still glad she'd stopped Scott from trying to send Derek packing. Though she doubted he would gone anywhere. He knew how to heal wounds infected with Wolfsbane, how to scar a werewolves skin, and they didn't know what else. He was one step away from being helpful and eventually, Nora figured Scott would grow on Derek. Or he would remain a heartless, cryptic, asshole. Either way, Nora wished he'd stop showing up at her school. Or at the very least, she'd like to not have to be the one always stuck dealing with him when he got there.

* * *

 

Stiles sat parked down the street from Lydia's house for a long time. He was trying to kick himself without actually doing it, because what did he think was going to happen? Lydia was going to recognize and admit she'd seen a werewolf? Or she'd see Stiles through the cloud of painkillers and realize they were meant to be? Stiles didn't even know if that was what he wanted anymore.

No, he did.

Didn't he?

Guilt was like a knife under his ribs when he thought about what he wanted. He wanted what he'd had with Nora, and he'd wanted it with Lydia.

No, he wanted it with Lydia, present tense, now, today, tomorrow, eventually.

Stiles put his head on the steering wheel.

He wasn't quite stupid enough to think he could have what he'd had with Nora with Lydia. Nora had objectively been the better half of him, Lydia wasn't anything real.

Not yet.

And probably not ever.

Either way, there was no replacing Nora and whatever they'd had. It had felt irreplaceable and right in a way he couldn't explain.

Or maybe he could explain it, and he just didn't want to.

What it, they, had been. It was never going to happen again.

And Stiles hated that he looked at his life like that, a long list of things that would never happen. But it was realistic. If there was one thing he had learned over and over it was that he couldn't always get what he wanted, or that when he did, it was all fucked up and backwards. Like having an incredible girl be in love with him and not love her back. Or having his mother live months past what was basically an expiration date, but she hadn't recognized him. It was like if there was a god, he was playing a mean game.

Stiles hated thinking about it.

So he thought about how Lydia had seen the alpha, and for some fucked up reason, that was what he'd rather think about.

Stiles knew she would forget about it by the time she came out of her painkiller haze, but he had the video. Proof, if he could prove to whoever he showed it to that it wasn't shopped to high heaven.

He'd actually probably delete the video, better off without it in his phone for him to accidentally send to someone. He'd deleted it off of Lydia's phone, and Stiles wasn't completely sure why. If he could make a guess at his own behaviour, he'd done it to protect her. Because why did Lydia need to know? Nearly having to cut off someone's arm wasn't going to be made better by her presence or knowledge of it.

It made sense that the reasons why Lydia Martin and him weren't meant to be were stacking up.

But it was best to ignore them.

Because if Stiles wasn't in love with Lydia, then why the hell had he lost Nora?

And, once they got the werewolf shit sorted out, if ever, Stiles would probably lose her again.

But he hated thinking about that to.

Stiles started the jeep, supposing he could think about how Scott was off frolicking around with Allison somewhere instead of doing anything helpful.

Oh, but he hated thinking about that as well.

* * *

 

Nora was sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly at her laptop when her father and Sofia came in from the conference. Sofia had her coat pulled tight around her body, her distressed face poking up from under her collar. Her father's brow was furrowed into the deep lines that never quite left his forehead.

"If they told you I'm failing something they made a mistake." Nora spat out.

Leave it to Beacon Hills High to make her life hell when she hadn't actually done anything. Nora had never even been close to failing anything, ever. She didn't know what it was that made her work so hard. Maybe her subconscious loved school, maybe it was the very conscious desire to get the hell out of Beacon County one day. Or maybe it was to get through high school and college and be all the things her mother wasn't.

Her father shook his head, forcing his features in to a smile.

"Mr. Ritter wants to know if you'll consider joining the swim team." He told her.

The conference had gone as normal.

So what was the problem?

Sofia was stood in the archway between the entryway and the kitchen, lips pursed, glowering at the floor.

"A mountain lion was prowling around the parking lot." She said. "And that Argent man shot it."

Her voice was biting.

"What?" Marisa, patron saint of all things animalia, shouted from the living room.

Nora was frozen in her seat.

Because she doubted Mr. Argent thought he was shooting a mountain lion.

Sofia's faced softened at Marisa's outburst, but her troubled look didn't leave. Neither did her father's. Sofia crossed the room to stand next to him at the island, picking some lint off of his coat.

"It would have expected the parking lot to be empty at night." She said. "I wasn't surprised to see it. Nothing would have happened if people had left it alone."

Her father looked up from the island, where he'd been staring down at the banana bread.

"What kind of man brings a gun to a school?" He asked, his voice was low. Her father didn't have much of a temper, but it was always the news and stupid people that got him there. "It's not just illegal, it's fucking ridiculous."

Nora wondered what kind of bullet he had loaded in his gun. She felt like she couldn't move without giving something away, but what, she had no idea.

Though the atmosphere in her home quickly changed. Isabella and Marisa began bickering about something in the living room and her father pressed a kiss to Sofia's temple before drifting away to go deal with them. Sofia, her face closer to her usual smile, crossed the room to Nora and leveled her eyes with her. She put her hand under her chin and tilted Nora's head up, her dark eyes were narrow.

"You need new mascara." She said, letting go and smoothing Nora's hair. "Yours is clumping."

Nora smiled and looked back to her laptop. Big things or little, Sofia noticed.

* * *

 

Stiles was all too familiar with the waiting room in Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. It was his least favourite place in the world. But it was be there or sit in his empty house, and someone needed to drive his dad home.

He needed to drive his dad home from the hospital.

The fact made him sick. But his father was going to be fine, he was just getting some x-rays and then he'd be stuck on his ass for a few days.

He was going to be fine.

Stiles could remind himself of that all he wanted and it would never feel like enough.

But his dad getting hurt wasn't the only thing that was bothering him.

The Argent's had almost killed Derek. They were no closer to figuring out who the alpha was. And Scott had spent his day with Allison. At least, Stiles is pretty sure that's what he was doing. He wouldn't know for sure, because Scott hadn't been answering his fucking phone.

Stiles couldn't remember the last time he'd been this pissed at someone that wasn't himself.

Because it wasn't like Stiles could actually do anything. He couldn't do more than think and delete evidence off of high people's cell phones. And Scott, the only person who could do anything and by that logic kind of has to, the person who actually had all of the problems, was probably still having the time of his life with his girlfriend.

Stiles wondered if Nora would be pissed.

There was one way to find out.

He was dialing her number before he'd even really thought it through. And it felt normal, calling Nora because he was pissed at Scott, because his dad was hurt, because he was freaking out.

To Stiles' great surprise he let the phone continue to dial and ring and it rang until she answered.

"Hello?" She said, her voice was heavy with sleep.

It was late, maybe she hadn't even looked at the caller ID.

"The world had better be ending, Stiles." Nora said.

Stiles felt like his was, or at least, that it might have.

"My dad's in the hospital." He told her.

"What?"

She sounded a hell of a lot more awake now.

"He's going to be fine." Stiles said, surprised at how angry he sounded. But he was, and didn't he get to be? "It's just, all this shit is happening, getting people hurt. Actually hurt. Like, people are dying and Scott is just running around with Allison like nothing's wrong, like her dad does not literally want to kill him! You had to resuscitate Derek Hale!"

The waiting room was empty but he lowered his voice anyway.

And Stiles knew that Scott deserved to have an actual life on top of all of this. And he knew he wasn't tied up in the werewolf shit the same way Scott was. But he also couldn't protect himself or anyone else the way Scott could.

"We're just human." He said finally.

Nora was quiet. Stiles could just hear her breathing, but his heartbeat was slowing down anyway. She felt closer to him through the phone than she ever did in person anymore. Maybe because Stiles could imagine her face. He could imagine she was looking at him softly in the way she looked at Scott or her family or hell, even the way she'd looked at Derek Hale for one fraction of a second.

Stiles would give a lot for one fraction of a second.

"Stiles, everything is going to work out." She said. Her voice was steady and weirdly hopeful. "Everything does."

He didn't believe that. He didn't believe that she did either, not completely. How could she? But Stiles could buy it while his dad was in a hospital gown and he was painfully reminded off all the things that he was not.

"Yeah?" He said. His voice echoing that same weird hope that Nora's did.

"Yeah." She told him.

They fell quiet again and it was just their breathing. Nora could have been in the room with him if Stiles shut his eyes and pretended she was. He almost did.

"I need to go to sleep, Stiles." She said. "So do you."

Instead of saying anything else, Stiles hung up. His heart beating steadily in his chest.

* * *

 

**Feedback is always appreciated! Also, more of Nora and Scott next chapter, which I'm excited for.**


	6. Spun Out

**This is late because of Avengers: Infinity War and that's just the truth. Sorry folks.**

**Chapter Six - Spun Out**

* * *

_Nora braced her back against her bedframe, shifting the way her laptop sat on her knees. Scott was next to her, staring blankly at the screen, watching Marlin desperately search for his idiot son Nemo._

_Thinking back, it might not have been the best choice of film. A parent's love letter to their kid, love and devotion and loss._

_Oops._

_Scott's parents had been separated for a few years now, but tonight was the night, tonight was divorce paper serving night._

_Nora thought it was a long time coming, but she wasn't going to say that._

_She tugged another Red Vine out of the bag and Scott did the same. Neither of them had spoken in a few hours, not since they'd settled down on her bedroom floor and put on the Incredibles, then Toy Story and now Finding Nemo._

_Scott reached out and hit the spacebar, pausing the movie, but his eyes didn't leave the screen. Dory was suspended in the jellyfish forest. It would have been a harrowing moment, if Nora had been eight years old and seeing the movie for the first time._

" _Do you miss your mom?" Scott asked._

_Nora's go-to answer to that question was always "no", mostly because it felt like the right thing to say, because she had Sofia. But the answer was not "no" and never would be._

" _It doesn't matter." She said, watching him. "What matters is that I know I'm better off."_

_She could tell him she wished almost every day that things could be different, prayed for it sometimes. But her mother didn't change, and Rafael McCall wasn't going to either._

_Scott's eyes flicked to her, dark and shining. Then he unpaused the movie, and Nora knew that at this point, neither of them was watching. But it was Finding Nemo or it was sit in silence, eating candy and wishing their lives could change._

_Nora pulled her knees up to her chest._

_She couldn't imagine what it was like to lose a parent the way Stiles did, sudden and without any rhyme or reason, to just lose them because something, God she supposed, decided it was time._

_But Nora knew what Scott was going through. She knew what it was like to watch the edges of something fray and fray until there was nothing left, but wanting, trying, to wind it all back together anyway. She knew how much the final tug of the thread hurt. She knew how much it never stopped hurting. But Nora knew she didn't have to tell Scott that. If he didn't know already he would soon. They'd hurt the same though. Maybe there was something to be said for hurting the same way._

_Nora offered Scott the last Red Vine, he took it._

* * *

Nora hated The Lord of the Flies. Fuck classic literature, fuck universal statements about humanity, she hated the goddamn book. And when Mr. Ritter announced that the final assignment on the book would be a partnered presentation, it was made clear to Nora that studying the Lord of the Flies was going to be one of the low points of her high school experience.

She just hoped she wasn't about to get partnered with one of the assholes who thought Goulding was making universal statements about humanity. She was pretty sure the man himself had said that he'd thrown stuck up rich British boys on that island for a reason.

As Nora braced herself for the announcing of her partner it dawned on her that Mr. Ritter was deciding partners based on their place in the alphabet.

"Ms. Martin and Ms. Morrissey." He said.

Nora was sure she'd rather be partnered with the Lord of the Flies himself.

Yeah, the decapitated fucking pig.

She stared at her notebook as Mr. Ritter assigned the rest of the partners and the one unfortunate group of three.

"Re-arrange yourselves, the next three class periods are work periods." He told them.

Nora wasn't going to move, not for Lydia Martin, because everyone else did. But it was just her luck that there was an empty desk next to her anyway, because Greenberg had dropped out of the course within the first week.

Lydia plopped down into that empty desk and scooted it closer, shooting a glare towards the front of the room where Mr. Ritter sat.

"I don't care what he says; I'm not touching Freudian analysis." She stated.

Nora looked at her, well aware that during class, Lydia dropped at least some of the mean girl facade. After all, not even she could maintain the airhead mask with a 97% average in this course.

"Oh thank god." Nora breathed.

Okay, maybe this wouldn't be a complete disaster.

* * *

Nora was eating lunch with Lydia and Allison. Why? Stiles didn't know. He also didn't know why he cared. But he did.

Maybe it was because they hadn't spoken since he'd called her when he was freaking out at the hospital.

Maybe it was because he was still pissed at Scott and the only other person he had resembling a friend did not see him that way.

Maybe it was because they were all still in a shit ton of danger.

Whatever it was, he couldn't stop looking over his shoulder to where Nora and Lydia were gazing intently at Nora's laptop. They were in the same English class, so he knew they were doing homework or something. But still, Stiles didn't know why the thought of them actually becoming friends got under his skin so much. Probably because in his head they should hate each other for some reason or at least Nora should hate Lydia. But she didn't, because Lydia hadn't done anything.

Maybe Stiles just wished there were more people to blame for what happened between him and Nora.

He watched as Nora offered the other two girls pieces of her brownie, Lydia taking a bite before getting up to leave.

There were damn good reasons why everyone liked Nora so much.

He looked back at Scott; still incredibly inconspicuous crouched down like a dumbass behind a textbook. Stiles pulled it away from him.

"You know the books' making it more obvious." He told him, looking back to the girl's table for what felt like the millionth time. "Besides she's reading anyway."

Scott peered over his textbook.

"So did you come up with a plan yet?" He asked, keeping his voice low.

As a matter of fact, he did have a plan to keep Scott from shifting. First he'd have to rob Coach Finstock's office and Stiles had yet to come up with a plan for that.

"I think so." He said and then bit into his apple.

It would give him something to do with his mouth other than mutter profanity under his breath.

"Does that mean you don't hate me now?" Scott asked.

God, he'd asked in earnest.

Stiles could tell him that yes, he was still mad, no, he never hated him, and that he still looked stupid hiding behind a book he wasn't even reading. He didn't.

"No." Stiles said flatly. "But your crap has infiltrated my life. So, now I have to do something about it."

Scott's crap had always been infiltrating his life; Stiles had sort of accepted it. But it had invaded his dad's life and gotten him hit by a car.

"Plus I'm definitely a better Yoda than Derek." He added meeting Scott's eyes over the top of his textbook.

Why did he always look like a kicked puppy?

"Okay yeah, you teach me." Scott said.

"Yeah, I'll be your Yoda." Stiles repeated himself.

Scott looked back down at his book as Stiles impersonated the Jedi master. Of course, when he realized the only person who would understand his reference was sat across the cafeteria, well, he felt like a dumbass. He wasn't funny; he was spouting nonsense in a stupid voice.

"I said it backwards-"

"Yeah, I know." Scott cut him off.

Stiles gathered up his stuff.

"Okay, yeah, I definitely still hate you." He said, giving Scott his best fake laugh. "Oh yeah."

He snatched the book Scott had been hiding behind and strode away from the table, leaving his friend defenseless. Stiles listened as Allison called after Scott. He watched him dart into the boy's bathroom and he glanced back into the cafeteria where Nora was still sitting, her eyes still glued to her computer.

Maybe he was just in the kind of mood where anything would piss him off, but that did. Allison was interested enough in what was going on with Scott that she'd actually chase after him. Nora wouldn't so much as glance up at him.

But then, why would she? She wasn't his girlfriend. Not anymore.

That thought still came with the same potent mix of rage and guilt and heartbreak that it held when they'd first broken up. Whatever they had, Stiles wasn't over it. And maybe getting it out in the air would help, talking about it or whatever.

Stiles strode away from the cafeteria, still holding Scott's book.

He doubted Nora wanted to talk about it and what could he do but let her not talk about it? She wanted them to be over. And Stiles knew the best thing, the only thing, he could for Nora was let her have that. Stiles made the cut, so he knew he didn't get to be the one to decide how it healed.

* * *

Nora leaned on her borrowed lacrosse stick, watching Scott as they waited for whatever batshit plan Stiles had come up with. Whenever she looked at Scott now she had little idea what was going on inside of his head. It was an alien feeling, and it sucked. Nora had always known before. But now that Scott was going through something she couldn't even begin to imagine, Nora had no idea how to read him.

Well, there was always a way around that.

"How are you doing?" She asked.

Scott turned to her, surprise all over his face.

"What?"

Had he forgotten that she almost never asked that question casually?

Nora cocked her head.

"Oh." Scott said, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. "I don't know, I guess I wish none of this had happened."

She could hear him fighting to keep his voice light and level and Nora knew she shouldn't press the issue. But if she didn't, who would?

"You know you'll never hurt anyone, right?" She said, searching his gaze for anything that said he believed her.

"On the full moon-"

"Fuck the full moon." Nora cut him off, punctuating it with a wave off her hand. "I know you Scott. You won't, and I think so long as you also believe that, you won't so much as step on an ant."

Scott gave her a lopsided smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Something twisted in her chest, an old feeling that never went away. Nora wanted to protect Scott, and a lot of the time, the things he needed protection from we're so far out of her control it wasn't funny.

Scott's eyes flicked to Stiles as he burst out of the school, his arms laden with a black bag and another lacrosse stick.

"How are you?" Scott asked.

Nora scoffed. "I'll tell you when I know." She said.

Scott tossed an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his side. At least they still hadn't really changed.

"What the hell do you think he has in that bag?" Nora asked as Stiles came closer.

Scott just sighed as Stiles set the bag down on the bench and handed something to Scott.

"Put this on." He said.

Scott grabbed the strap, peering down out at it.

"Isn't this one of the heart rate monitors for the track team?" He asked.

Nora pinched the bridge of her nose. That was exactly what it was and they stayed locked in Finstock's office during the off season. Usually.

"Yeah, I borrowed it." Stiles said.

"Stole it." Scott corrected.

"Temporarily misappropriated." Stiles rebutted.

"Good lord." Nora muttered.

"Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs, you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day." Stiles explained.

"Isn't that coach's phone?" Scott asked looking down at Stiles' hands.

Nora ran her fingers through her hair.

_He can't be fucking serious._

"That I stole." Stiles admitted.

"Why?" Scott asked him, looking almost impressed.

Nora would admit she was a little impressed to. No one could ever say Stiles didn't have a flair for the dramatic, insane, and kind of genius.

"Your heart speeds up when you shift, right?" Nora turned to Scott. "So really, you shift when it speeds up."

Scott nodded.

"Like when you're playing lacrosse, when you're with Allison, whenever you get angry." Stiles continued. "Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate."

Despite all the theft, not a bad plan.

"Like Incredible Hulk?" Scott said, smiling now.

Nora grinned.

"Kind of like the Incredible Hulk." Stiles relented.

"I'm like the-"

"Would you shut up and put the strap on." Stiles said.

Nora shot him a glare. God forbid Scott think this is a little cool and get the tiniest bit of joy out of being a fucking werewolf.

Within moments, Stiles had duct taped Scott's hands together and picked up his lacrosse stick. Nora hadn't wanted to ask why they'd needed them, but she'd had a feeling. She also had a feeling this phase of the plan was more petty than productive, but who would it hurt really?

"This isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my free period." Scott said.

Nora couldn't help but smile a little. Scott was one of her closest friends, but he was also the closest thing she had to a brother. And she knew from experience, it was the duty of siblings to give each other some hell.

"Alright, you ready?" Stiles asked him, backing away.

"No." Scott told them.

"You'll live." Nora assured, shooting him a grin.

"Don't smile like that when you're about to bean me with lacrosse balls." Scott said.

"Remember, don't get angry." Stiles reminded him.

"Focus on your breathing." Nora said. "Slow and steady keeps the heart rate down."

Scott said something but she could hear him, and Stiles was already launching a ball at him.

Nora rolled a ball into the net and silently thanked Scott and Stiles for all the times they'd made her practice with them. She had a mean swing and even better aim.

So she hit Scott in the leg on purpose.

Stiles reminded Scott to stay calm and she hit him again, another ball careening into Scott's thigh.

"You know, that can't be the most effective way of doing this." Stiles said, swinging another ball at Scott.

Nora watched as it sailed past Scott who was muttering to himself to stay calm.

"Neither is missing." She said, ignoring Stiles' mock look of offense as she swung at Scott again, this time nailing him in the shoulder. He doubled over. "Sorry!" Nora called out.

"Don't say sorry, we're helping him." Stiles said, clearly enjoying this may too much.

Nora swung again.

"If you critique me one more time I'm hitting you with the stick." She said.

Her heart wasn't in the jab, and she knew Stiles would notice but it didn't matter. Scott was on the ground and the heart rate monitor was beeping madly in the bag behind them. She watched as Scott ripped his hands free from the duct tape, she moved to run to him and Stiles put out his arm to stop her.

"Just wait." He said.

She could have smacked him.

They watched Scott claw at the ground, breathing deep. The beeping slowed. For a moment, Nora felt something that felt a little bit like hope swell in her chest. Scott hadn't shifted. He'd brought it back.

She and Stiles crouched in front of him. Nora reached her hand out and saw Stiles move to stop her and then think better of it.

_Good._

"Scott?" She said. "You started to change."

He rolled over to face them.

"From anger." He breathed out. "But it was more than that, the angrier I got the stronger I felt."

"So it is anger then." Stiles said. "Derek's right."

Nora frowned. That wasn't a sentence she thought she'd hear Stiles say.

"I can't be around Allison." Scott said.

"Just because she makes you happy?" Stiles asked, incredulous.

"No, because she makes me weak." Scott said.

Nora couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Ten bucks it's because she makes your heart beat skyrocket, dipshit." She said, getting to her feet. She held out a hand for Scott, he took it.

Stiles sighed and began collecting the balls they'd strewn all over the field.

"Alright, so you stay away from her for a few days." He said. "You can do that."

Scott stuffed the broken duct tape into his pocket.

"But is it a few days or is it forever?" He asked.

Stiles turned to him.

"You know this whole women making you weak thing is a little too Spartan warrior for me." Stiles said. "It's probably just part of the learning process."

"Agreed." Nora said, her eyes flicking between them. "Derek's parents were werewolves, right? So clearly, they can have sex lives."

She chose not to point out that the Spartans probably swore off women because most of them were very, very gay.

Stiles looked at her, brow furrowed.

"But if they were both werewolves-"

"We're not debating the specifics of Derek Hale's fucking conception." Nora cut him off.

"You've both seen Derek; I mean the guy's totally alone." Scott said. "What if I can never be around her again?"

Nora narrowed her eyes at Scott.

"I think Derek's total loneliness has more to do with the dead family and terrible attitude."

Stiles shrugged.

"Well if you're not dead that could be a good thing." He offered.

"I'd rather be dead." Scott said, turning a lacrosse ball over and over in his hand.

Nora scoffed and glanced at Stiles, who was mirrored her disgusted expression.

"Relax Romeo." She said, rolling her eyes.

"You're not going to end up like Derek." Stiles assured. "Alright, we'll figure it out."

So he was going the more sympathetic route, clearly.

"If you do you'll have a six pack and cool tattoo, so it might be worth it in the end." She said brightly, clapping Scott on the shoulder, leveling her eyes with his. "Everything's going to be fine."

"Okay." Scott sighed, glancing between the two of them. "Okay."

Nora followed them off of the field, the memory of Allison telling her and Lydia about her history project still fresh in her mind. But for now, Allison still thought the Beast was a myth and Lydia still thought she'd seen a mountain lion. And that was as good as things could possibly be.

* * *

Thinking Scott was about to shift in the middle of class was terrible. The thought that came after was worse.

Allison had brought him back.

" _She makes me weak."_

It took everything Stiles had not to scream "bullshit" at the top of his lungs. Allison calmed him down, brought him back. Her hand in his, her smiling at him in a way Stiles was sure Scott could feel. He'd had someone look at him like that once, and it was a look that burned into his mind, his soul, if he had one.

Her being in the room made him steadier.

Yeah, Stiles knew what that was like.

And he'd fucked it up.

Stiles thought back to the other night on the phone. Nora had answered, so maybe things between them weren't completely gone. But it's not like she'd been trying to help him. Nora had just talked to him, and it had been enough.

Though it wasn't like Allison knew what she was doing for Scott either.

She was just holding his hand while Coach yelled at him.

Class couldn't have moved slower after that, while Stiles waited, and thought, and waited some more. Allison could solve their problem.

It was almost funny, a werewolf hunter's daughter unknowingly being the thing that saves a werewolf.

He followed Scott out of class, scanning the hallway for Nora's face.

"It's her." Stiles said.

"What do you mean?" Scott asked, looking around.

Sometimes, Scott was dense.

"It's Allison." He reiterated, catching Nora's eye as she stormed out of her math class. "Remember when you told me about the night of the full moon, you were thinking about her. Right? About protecting her?" Nora fell into step beside them.

"Okay." Scott said.

"What happened?" Nora asked.

"Remember the night of the first lacrosse game?" Stiles kept going, trying to keep his eyes away from Nora's face. She was watching them both, listening intently. "You said you could hear her voice out on the field."

"Yeah, I did." Scott said, glancing between the two of them.

Nora shrugged.

"So that's what brought you back so you could score." Stiles said. "And then after the game in the locker room you didn't kill her." He pointed out.

"Girls don't like it when you do that." Nora said lightly.

"Neither did I." He said.

No, Scott snarling at him from on top of the fucking lockers was not a fond memory.

Stiles looked to Nora and there wasn't the same confusion on her face as there was on Scott's. She sighed.

"She brings you back, Scott." She said, nudging his shoulder. "He's giving you good news."

"No, but it's not always true." Scott said. "Because literally every time, I'm kissing her or touching her-"

"No." Stiles cut him off, honestly not wanting to hear much about Scott's sex life. "That's not the same."

Nora snorted.

"When you're doing that you're just another hormonal teenager thinking about sex." Stiles pointed out. "You know?"

Weren't they all?

He watched Scott's face change as his attention shifted away from him. Nora put her face in her hands.

"You're thinking about sex right now, aren't you?" She said into her hands.

"Yeah." Scott admitted. "Sorry."

"That's fine, look back in the classroom when she was holding your hand, that was different. Okay? I don't think she makes you weak I think she actually gives you control." Stiles said, his eyes flicking to Nora. She was looking at the ground, watching the tiles pass as they walked. "She's kind of like an anchor."

"You mean because I love her." Scott said.

Nora's head snapped up, eyes wide. She was beaming at Scott, the smile Stiles never saw anymore. The one he promised to himself he'd make her smile all the time, hopeful and honest and just so goddamn happy.

"Exactly." Stiles said.

"Did I just say that?" Scott asked.

Nora was still grinning. She batted at his shoulder.

"I think you did." She said.

"Yes, you just said that." Stiles said.

Though his voice was notably devoid of Nora's joy.

"I love her." Scott repeated.

"That's great." Stiles told him, but he heard himself and he sounded like he didn't mean it.

He did mean it. He really did. But something was making it hard to be happy for Scott, and that something was blonde and standing about two feet away from him.

"Now moving on-" He continued.

"No, no, no." Scott stopped him. "Really, I think I'm totally in love with her."

Nora's eyes finally flicked to Stiles, and none of that smile was there. This conversation needed to end.

"That's beautiful." Stiles said. "Now, before you go off and write a sonnet, can we figure this out please? Because you obviously can't be around her all the time."

His voice was sharp, but if either of them cared he was pissed it didn't show. Whatever Nora felt, how happy she was for Scott was shining right past it.

"He can write a sonnet if he wants to." Nora snapped. "Maybe he can do it for extra credit."

"No, sorry, Stiles is right." Scott looked back at him.

Nora looked at him, and he recognized the look she was giving him now. It was the "part of me hates you" look.

"So what do I do?" Scott asked.

"I don't know." Stiles sighed. "Yet."

He felt himself starting to pace, circling on the spot. Nora was watching him; Stiles could feel it and he wanted to stop. He wanted to ask her what she thought should happen next. After all, he'd dragged her into this for her help, hadn't he?

Stiles looked at her.

No, that hadn't been why.

He did have an idea of how they could test their theory though.

Nora looked away from him and Stiles realized he'd been staring. If the words "I'm sorry" could do anything to fix them he'd say them. He'd scream them, over and over until his lungs burst. But it wouldn't change anything. Stiles would still be the dumbass that broke his best friend's heart.

He clapped Scott on the shoulder.

"I have an idea."

* * *

Nora spent the rest of the day feeling like she was about to fucking shatter. She'd watched Scott just say it. He had just said he was in love with Allison like it was snapping his fingers, like it was easy. Nora remembered the moment she had told Stiles she was in love with him. She had felt like she could feel the world spinning. The words had come out of her mouth and there wasn't any taking them back. A weight had been lifted off on her chest, for sure. But it was like that weight being gone had thrown her out of orbit.

And then Stiles had kissed her.

That was the part that had come easy. That was the part that felt like breathing after being held under a wave for far too long. It felt like standing with her feet planted firmly on the ground. It felt right.

And where the fuck had that gotten her?

Nora wrenched open her locker and dumped her textbooks inside, almost numb to their clatter as they tumbled to the aluminum floor of her locker.

She was happy for Scott, over the stupid moon. Because being in love was great, Nora wasn't going to deny that.

But she was terrified for him to.

If Scott had fallen for a normal girl, one whose family wasn't out to shoot him dead, Nora could just make her promise to have Scott's back no matter what. She would promise him advice or a shoulder to cry on if things went sour. But now anything she could give to Scott wouldn't be enough. And Nora knew Scott would never see it that way, he probably hadn't even thought about it. But she did.

She was in over her head and Nora wasn't worried about that for her own sake, she was worried about falling short for Scott.

She shut her locker and pressed her forehead against the metal.

If all she could do was smile and tell him everything would be okay, she had to give it everything she could. She had to believe it.

A tap on the shoulder jarred Nora from her thoughts, she whipped around, face with Lydia and a very disinterested Jackson.

"Did you know we're all hanging out tonight?" She asked.

Nora had not known that, but she got the sense she wasn't being asked.

"What?" She said numbly.

Lydia rolled her eyes.

"You, me, Jackson, Allison and Scott." She said, exasperated. "We're going to the new Mexican place."

"Why do I feel like this is a last minute invitation?" Nora asked, matching Lydia's pointed gaze with her own.

"Cause it is." Jackson said flatly.

Lydia's ever present smirk faltered.

"We need to pick a theme for our PowerPoint." She said.

Nora got the message. Lydia didn't feel like hanging out by herself with Jackson or she didn't feel like hanging out with someone who thought she was stupid. Either way, she almost felt bad for her.

Okay, Nora did feel bad for her.

With a sigh, Nora picked up her backpack and swung it on. She could manage an evening with the popular kids. After all, she kind of was one.

* * *

_Scott could not remember ever being this pissed at Stiles, or being this hungover. Evidently, they'd all gone a little too far last night and made some mistakes. Well, Scott had made some mistakes, namely spilling mystery punch all over a couch that wasn't his. Stiles had screwed up epically. He wondered if Stiles could tell he was glowering at him. But Scott didn't think he could take off his sunglasses without throwing up again._

_But it didn't matter if Stiles could see his eyes, because Scott he was pretty sure he could hear._

" _Stiles, what is wrong with you? Why would you-" He cut himself off not even sure how to finish that question. "Of course she thought you loved her, I did!"_

_Scott collapsed into Stiles' desk chair, his head spinning. Nora had never told him how she felt about Stiles but he had known. How could he not? Nora was one of his best friends._

_Honestly, Scott felt like he should be with her right now instead of Stiles. But Nora had other people, Stiles just had them._

_Well, now Stiles just had him._

_Rage swelled in his chest. There was leading someone on and there was letting someone think you were in love with them. Scott couldn't look at Stiles and understand how he'd done this. Didn't he feel bad? And well, one glance at Stiles said everything. He felt terrible. Every few moments he'd be wiping his eyes, trying and failing to keep it together. He would pace and then sit back down only to get back up again moments later. He was shaking. Scott wasn't sure what to do with him, because he wanted to scream at him, but he felt awful doing it._

" _You have to say you're sorry." Scott said._

_Though at this point, sorry would never cut it. Scott didn't know how Stiles could even phrase it._

" _I'm sorry I wasn't over my pathetic crush and Lydia and didn't tell you." "I'm sorry I let you think I was in love with you." "I'm sorry I ruined everything, can we go back to being friends?"_

_Because there was no going back was there?_

" _I know." Stiles sighed, his voice was shaking. "I just don't know how-"_

" _Stiles, I don't care." Scott snapped, and he barely recognized his own voice. "Like, seriously? I don't, just do it or else…" He let himself trail off._

_Nora was going to leave them. Why would she stay? She had other friends. Right now, Scott was so angry he almost thought he'd follow her. But he wouldn't. He couldn't imagine doing it._

_Though he doubted Stiles had ever imagined hurting Nora the way he just did._

_But he'd done it._

_Scott spun around in Stiles' chair, ignoring the nausea and keeping his gaze on the ceiling._

" _Nora is-" Stiles began and stopped._

_Scott could only guess what he was going to say. That she wasn't the forgiving type? That she was heartbroken and furious and would probably never trust him again?_

_If Stiles was going to say any of that, he'd be right. But Scott only knew what Nora was to him._

" _She's my best friend to, Stiles." His voice was biting. "Please just try and fix this, okay? She doesn't need this, not right now, not ever."_

_Scott remembered what he'd said when Stiles had told him he and Nora were together._

" _You're not gonna hurt her, right?" Scott had asked him._

_Scott remembered how he'd sounded. He's been half joking and hopeful. Why would Stiles ever hurt her?_

_Stiles had said no, he wouldn't._

_Scott had believed him._

_Looking back it had been a stupid question to ask and a stupid answer to accept. People hurt each other all the time without meaning to. Most people didn't hurt each other with intention, they did it with carelessness._

* * *

**As always, feedback is welcomed. Any other Marvel stans in the house? Send help thnks.**


	7. Diamonds and More Diamonds

**Happy Friday (kind of lol)! When I was writing this I was like why is this taking forever? And then I realized it's because it soooo long, its sooo long. I'm sorry! Also I hated the episode night school so writing this like killed me a little, anyway. Chapter 8 might come this weekend, might not, IDK.**

**Chapter Seven - Diamonds and More Diamonds**

* * *

_Nora had never liked Monday morning, who did? But the Monday after a Friday night breakup was especially terrible. She wondered if people would notice, if they'd care. It was strange to think about, how her life felt like it was fucking ending, but who else was really going to notice?_

_Her friends would. Nora had sent Halle to go get her stuff from her locker. She walked into school the moment the doors opened and asked to switch her locker. Honestly, Nora had expected guidance to tell her no, but maybe it was because she was a good student or how pathetic she looked, but they granted her wish._

_Halle set the box down at her feet. Nora looked at it. None of the stuff really mattered, she wasn't one to decorate her locker so it was just binders and books and a mirror. But she felt like moving her locker was a huge deal, this major "fuck you" statement. But it was nothing. It all fit in a box._

_She put her stuff away as people began trickling into school, getting glimpses of herself in her dumb little mirror as she did. God, she looked tired, like she'd been through some kind of ordeal._

_Well, she had. She was having an ordeal. Nora was heartbroken and in her head she knew it would go away, given weeks or months. But right now she felt like her heart was sitting on the shelf in front of her, having been ripped out of her chest. Now she had to carry it around with her, this thing that hurt, and that she didn't really want._

_Nora could feel Scott looking at her before she turned around to face him. She had spoken to him on the phone a couple times over the weekend, but being in person was different. There was no masking that she hadn't slept in three days, that her hair was a day past clean, or that she was seconds away from bursting into tears._

_And Scott looked as upset as she was._

_For a moment Nora was terrified he'd come to deliver some kind of apology. And she didn't want to have to shoot the messenger, especially this particular messenger, but she would._

_Scott didn't say anything though; he just pulled in her a hug, close and familiar. Nora could feel her eyes burning as she pressed her face into his shoulder, collapsing against him._

" _I'm sorry." She said._

_Nora wasn't entirely sure why she felt sorry, but she felt like it had to be said._

" _Why are you sorry?" Scott asked, stepping back from her, looking unsure what to do with himself._

_Nora gestured to her new locker._

_Scott shrugged._

" _It's okay." He said._

_He didn't sound okay._

" _Are you guys gonna talk?" Scott asked, his voice holding that faint optimism it always did._

_Nora felt herself deflate. She knew what this had to be like for him without asking. Mom and dad were splitting up again._

" _I don't know what there is to say." Nora said, toying with her necklace._

_She almost never wore it, the little cross around her neck. But she'd been sitting in church on Sunday, barely listening, and found herself reaching for the pendant she wasn't wearing, looking for some small comfort and not finding it._

_She had it now._

" _Well he's-" Scott began._

" _Sorry?" Nora cut in, letting her voice sharpen. It was taking everything she had not to scream at any person who dared interact with her. "I figured, but it's not-" Nora cut herself off, her voice shaking. She took a heavy breath. "If he had just told me he didn't love me back, in fucking August when I-" Nora stopped herself again, trying to steady her voice, herself. "I would have needed time and space but I would have gotten over it, I would have adjusted." Nora brought her eyes up to meet Scott's. "Stiles took every bit of trust I had in him, could ever have, and ran it over with his stupid jeep."_

_Scott nodded, toying with his finger the same way she toyed with her necklace. Nora slammed her new locker shut and grabbed one of his hands. Scott looked down at their fingers, intertwined, but this felt weirdly like a goodbye._

_Maybe it was._

_But Nora really didn't want to lose Scott to._

" _Do you hate him?" He asked, his voice was small and oddly, a little barbed._

_Nora let out a breath of laughter._

" _I don't think I ever could."_

_But who knew? The wound was still fresh, and maybe, hopefully even, it might heal angry._

" _Well I do, a little, right now." Scott said, giving her a small smile._

_Part of Nora wanted to tell Scott that he should hate Stiles and make him move his locker to, but she couldn't. It wouldn't be fair._

_Not that anything about this was fair. What Stiles had done wasn't fair. But Nora could be. She could be better._

_Maybe being better would mean forgiveness, but not right now it didn't._

" _Don't." She told him. "Stiles didn't break your heart."_

_Scott frowned in response. Because, he kind of had hadn't he? He'd ripped apart their little group in one night, with one sentence, with one too long moment of silence._

_The strap of Scott's backpack was twisted on his shoulder and Nora reached out to fix it._

" _If you need me, come get me." She said. Some of the tears that had been welling in her eyes were out now. Nora wiped her cheeks with her sleeve. "I'm not going anywhere."_

_Scott nodded._

_But Nora had sort of lied hadn't she? Her eyes flicked to her new locker._

_Hadn't she already moved?_

* * *

Hanging out with Lydia would have been infinitely more fun had Jackson not been there, sulking and giving bad input about the aesthetic of their PowerPoint. It's not like she was thrilled to be fifth wheeling whatever it was they were going to be doing, but it was better than just sitting around her house. Maybe she'd have fun, if not because of the dinner itself, than because of the shitshow it would probably be.

They pulled up to Allison's house where she was waiting on the curb for Scott. But Scott was late, almost half an hour late. It wasn't like him. He wasn't texting Nora back either, which was like him. Lydia twisted around in her seat, eyeing Nora as Allison climbed into the back.

"I could set you up you know." She said.

Nora stared at her. The last thing she wanted was to be set up with whatever kind of guy Lydia deemed appropriate. Nora didn't trust her taste.

"I'm getting over something right now." She said flatly.

Lydia shrugged and turned back around.

"He wants us to go to the school." Allison said.

Nora turned to her, brow furrowed.

"What?" She said.

She caught Jackson rolling his eyes in the rearview mirrors.

"Dumbasses break in all the time." He said.

"He said it was urgent." Allison rebutted.

"I personally, would like to see the look on his face when he tries to explain why he's half an hour late." Lydia told them.

Nora leaned back into the seat, knowing that wherever this stupid Porsche was going, she was going to. She did her best to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach as they sped down the winding roads towards their high school, built firmly on the edge of town and the beginning of the woods. But when they pulled into the parking lot, Nora was reminded why her intuition rarely failed her.

Rarely.

Allison weaseled her way out of the car first, looking around for any sign of Scott. There was none, other than Stiles' jeep sitting empty across the parking lot. A telltale sign that those two idiots were somewhere nearby.

Jackson followed Allison outside. Nora pulled her phone out of her pocket.

_**Where are you guys? School?** _

Stiles didn't respond within a fraction of a second. Which wasn't like him. Nora ignored the fear creeping up her spine and watched Jackson and Allison walk towards the open door.

Nora never liked it when doors were open when they weren't supposed to be. It was never a good sign. It usually meant the dog was loose or the house was broken into or in this case, probably something to do with werewolves.

She stepped out of the car.

"Guys, forget it, let's just go eat." She called after them.

Jackson and Allison looked at her, then to each other and then back to the door.

"I'll be fine." Allison said and turned to walk away.

"Allison-" Jackson began.

Nora frowned and peered at him.

"You have that look like you're about to say be careful." Allison said.

He did, and it didn't suit him.

Jackson pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"I am."

Allison smiled at him and Nora swore she almost gagged. She looked back at Lydia, who didn't look any more pleased than she felt.

"Be sure to write us from the trenches." Nora said flatly, turning to look at Stiles' abandoned jeep. "Or better yet, don't go in there."

It was hard not to sound worried, but she couldn't let herself. Because sounding like she gave a shit would invite questions that Nora couldn't answer. She ignored Jackson and Allison as they bid their farewell. Allison disappeared into the school, letting the flashlight dangle in her hand as she did.

"You're disgusting." Nora pointed out.

Jackson did nothing but glower at her and stride back towards the Porsche. But something caught his eye.

"The hood on that piece of crap jeep looks crappier than usual." He said, looking at it with a kind of concern Nora thought the reserved for people who weren't his girlfriend.

She suppressed the urge to defend the jeep and looked back at it. Jackson was right, something was wrong.

There was a lead weight in her stomach as she walked over to it, Jackson on her heels

"Do not leave me alone in this car." Lydia's voice came from behind them.

Jackson rolled his eyes.

"It's cold out." Nora said. "Keep the heat on, Allison won't be long."

"Don't have a meltdown." Jackson said.

Nora stood at the front of the jeep, ignoring the festering feelings of rage and heartbreak she got every time she looked at the stupid car. There were claw marks on the hood where it had been bent up. Nora couldn't fathom the strength it would take to do that. Jackson spread his hand and traced the marks. Nora looked down into the engine.

Stiles had taught her everything she knew about cars, but it wouldn't take a mechanic to know that the battery was gone.

"Look at that." Lydia said. "It is indeed a piece of crap. Can we get Allison and leave now?"

Without a word, Jackson backed away from the jeep. But Nora didn't care.

"I'll go get her." She said, already striding towards the door, eyeing the bolt cutters that held it open.

She heard their footsteps behind her, Lydia's voice and somehow even louder, was Jackson's odd silence. Nora picked up the bolt cutters, wielding them like she might a bat. They would be useless against the alpha, she knew. But they were better than praying.

* * *

Her phone felt heavy in her pocket as Stiles continued not to text her back. It crossed her mind that instead of Allison, she could very easily find her friend's bodies.

The thought came once, twice, three times, before Nora could make it stop. She couldn't allow herself to panic, not when Lydia and Jackson were watching, and not when Scott and Stiles were somewhere and needed help. Granted, they needed far more help than Nora could give, but she was all they had.

They crept through the school, Nora doing her best to be silent, and Jackson and Lydia doing their best to be very, very loud. She shushed them.

"Or what? You'll hit us with your garden shears?" Jackson snapped.

"Why do you have those?" Lydia asked.

"In case we're not the only people who decided to break into the school tonight." She said.

Jackson rolled his eyes and Lydia restated her need to use the bathroom.

"Yes, now." She said. "Do you have a problem with my performing a basic biological function?"

"You know, I'm starting to have a problem with all of your functions." Jackson told her.

If the comment got under Lydia's skin it didn't show. Nora scowled at him.

"Let me reiterate, you're disgusting."

She followed Lydia into the bathroom and set the bolt cutters down next to one of the sinks. It was nearly pitch black. The only illumination in the room coming from where Lydia had balanced her phone somewhere inside of stall, and the small light of Nora's phone shining in her face.

_**At the school, what is going on? U dead?** _

It was getting harder and harder to stop the tide of panic. For all Nora knew, Scott and Stiles were dead and she was the only one left who knew the truth about the alpha. Other than Derek, who she had no way to call for help. It was just her, a bickering couple, and Allison and it fell to her to not only keep them, alive, but also out of the loop. The fact that she'd ended up with this particular burden made her want to drive her fist into the cinder block walls.

Her phone buzzed.

Her heart threatened to leap out of her chest. Stiles had replied, so unless the alpha had is phone password, he wasn't dead.

_**how r u here** _

And then,

_**derek dead** _

And then,

_**need keys off body** _

Then,

_**dOn't know where alpha is** _

Nora's heart hammered in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut, clutching her phone in her hand. She could barely think, barely breath. How had this happened and why the fuck hadn't she known about it? Rage coiled in her chest and she forced it away. Derek was dead, which meant the only thing standing between Scott and the alpha was Scott. The only person who knew anything about werewolves was gone, and she was left standing in a dark bathroom with some bolt cutters and no plan.

"Fuck." She said to herself.

"What?" Lydia asked, flushing the toilet and leaving the stall.

"Nothing." Nora looked back down at her phone.

_**Where are you?** _

Her fingers shook as she typed.

_**What r u doing here?** _

Stiles replied.

_**Where are you?** _

Nora asked him again.

_**Go to lobby.** _

Nora shoved her phone back into her pocket and looked over at Lydia. She was examining her eyebrows in the mirror.

"Text Allison to meet us in the lobby." Nora said.

Lydia pulled out her phone and strode out of the bathroom, the glow lighting up her pinched face. It was painfully obvious that she and Jackson were having issues, more than usual, but Nora couldn't do anything about that now. They could sort out their relationship problems if they all managed not to die.

Nora brushed past them as she left the bathroom, heading for the lobby.

She should have stayed home.

* * *

Stiles and Scott burst through a side door into the lobby, Allison was already there. Which was good, she wasn't being ripped to pieces. But where was Nora?

"What did you come? What are you doing here?" Scott asked her, not bothering to hide how frantic he was.

Stiles thought it might be best not to let everyone know they were in imminent danger, but whatever.

"Because you asked me to." She said.

Scott looked back at him and he shrugged.

"I asked you to?" He looked back at Allison, who showed him his phone.

There was a text there, and it was signed from Scott. But Stiles knew Scott's phone was dead in a parking lot somewhere, courtesy of Derek Hale.

"Why do I get the feeling you didn't send that text?" Allison asked.

"Because I didn't." Scott told her.

Stiles wasn't even going to try and stop himself from pacing. He reeled around, facing Allison.

"Did you drive here?" He asked.

He didn't bother being quiet either; the alpha could probably hear and smell them from a mile away. They were still alive because it wanted them to be, because it was waiting for them all to be together.

"Jackson did." She said.

"Jackson's here?" Scott turned to Stiles, the picture of disbelief.

Stiles couldn't muster the energy to react to that. Of course Jackson was here. Why would they get the get the reprieve of not having to deal with Jackson fucking Whittemore?

"And Lydia." Allison added. "What's going on? Who sent this text?"

Her phone rang.

"Where are you?" She asked.

The main doors burst open and Jackson and Lydia strode inside, followed by Nora.

"Finally," Lydia said, "can we go now?"

Nora was staring at him, eyes narrowed. Stiles knew he had not been very descriptive in telling her what was going on. But if they could leave, he would write her a 5000 word recount of this godforsaken night.

The ceiling above them creaked, the tiles bending under the alpha's weight.

_Shit._

"Run!" Scott shouted.

The six of them sprinted up the stairs. There was growling behind them, Stiles couldn't even begin to think about how they were going to explain this. But the truth wasn't an option.

He threw open the cafeteria doors, Nora right behind them. He watched as she pulled her hair into a ponytail, her eyes pale and wide in the dark, set on the same thing his were.

Scott, Allison, Lydia and Jackson began piling tables and chairs in front of the door.

"Scott, wait not here." He said.

"Guys, stop!" Nora shouted.

No one was listening. Allison was more interested in demanding to know what had just chased them down the hallway. Stiles couldn't blame her. He turned to Nora, watching the gears turn in her head.

"What came out of the ceiling?" Lydia asked them, her voice was shrill and shaking.

"What the fuck are we gonna tell them?" Nora mouthed.

Stiles had no idea, but again, they had more pressing problems.

"Guys," he said again, "just wait a second, just listen to me-"

"Hey idiots!" Nora shouted, cutting him off. "Just what the fuck is your plan for the windows?"

They froze and turned to her, but the damage was done. They had barricaded themselves in a room that had a wall of glass.

"Could somebody please explain to me what's going on because I am freaking out here." Allison said, clutching Scott's hand. "I would really like to know why…" She trailed off looking at Scott almost desperately.

Scott's eyes were darting between Stiles, Nora and the ceiling. He broke away from them, doubling over a table. Nora turned to him; her mouth was a thin line.

Stiles couldn't give them the truth, but he could give them part of it.

"Somebody killed the janitor." He said.

"What?" Lydia said.

"Yeah, the janitor's dead."

Allison was incredulous.

"What is he talking about? Is this joke?" She asked, looking back to Scott.

"Who killed him?" Jackson asked.

Lydia was shaking her head furiously.

"No, no, no, this wasn't supposed to be over, the mountain lion killed-"

"Don't you get it, there wasn't a mountain lion." Jackson interrupted her; his arm was tight around her shoulders.

Stiles looked back to Nora, but she was leaning down, whispering something to Scott.

"Who was it?" Allison asked again. "What does he want? What's happening?" She stared across the room, her eyes shining. "Scott!" She shouted.

Stiles ran his hands over his head. Nora turned back to them as Scott stood up.

"I don't know." He said. "I just- if we go out there he's gonna kill us."

"Us?" Lydia whimpered. "He's gonna kill us?"

Stiles stared at them. Nora's hand was clamped firmly around Scott's elbow; she was looking up at him, insisting something.

"Who?" Allison pressed, turning to Stiles. "Who is it?"

Stiles wished she hadn't looked at him, because it looked like Nora and Scott were coming up with the answers. He looked over at them, Nora was scowling at Scott.

"Derek." She said, levelling her gaze with his. "Derek Hale."

Was she serious? That's what they were going with? Derek Hale? He was dead, and if anyone found a way to prove that they could also prove he hadn't killed anyone that they know of. Stiles joined the others in gaping at Nora and Scott.

"Derek killed the janitor?" Jackson repeated, his eyes darting between Scott and the floor.

"Are you sure?" Allison asked.

"I saw him." Scott said.

"The mountain lion-" Lydia began.

Stiles remembered how insistent she'd been that what she'd seen outside the video store was a mountain lion. He wondered if she'd never been quite able to convince herself of it, if deleting the video was an idea dumber than telling them that Derek Hale was trying to kill them.

"No, Derek killed them!" Scott shouted.

"All of them?" Allison said.

"Yes, starting with his own sister." Scott told her.

As Scott and Allison kept going over who else Derek had supposedly murdered Stiles looked to Nora. Her gaze was hard on their barricaded door. Had this been her idea? It had to have been. Stiles doubted Scott could throw a dead guy under a bus.

Scott turned to them.

"If we don't get out now, he's going to kill us to." He said.

For a moment they were all silent, because of everything Scott had said, that part was true. They were screwed.

"Call the cops." Jackson said, looking pointedly at Stiles.

See, what Jackson didn't know was the he and Scott had gone over this, and he didn't feel like going over it again.

"No." He said fatly.

"What do you mean no?" Jackson asked.

Stiles rolled his eyes.

"I mean no, you wanna hear it in Spanish? No!" Stiles snapped.

Jackson glowered at him, and if looks could kill Stiles wouldn't have to worry about being ripped apart by the alpha.

"Look, Derek killed three people okay? We don't know what he's armed with." He said.

"Your dad is armed with an entire Sheriff's department!" Jackson said. "Call him!"

"I'm calling." Lydia said, striding away from them.

Stiles stepped forwards to try and stop her, but Jackson was between them in a second. He looked to Nora to find her eyes were already on him.

"Stiles, it's going to be fine." She said.

Jackson scoffed.

But it wouldn't matter, because dispatch hung up on Lydia.

"The police hung up on you?" Allison clarified.

"She said they got a tip warning them that there were going to be prank calls about a break in at the high school." Lydia told them. "She said if I called again they were going to trace it and have me arrested!"

"Then call again!" Allison pushed.

Stiles was glad that Nina at dispatch got to use her favorite line, but they didn't have the tech that let them track cellphones.

"They won't trace the call, and they'll send a car to your house before they send anyone here." He told them.

Allison put her face in her hands.

"Why does Derek wanna kill us? Why is he killing anyone?" She asked.

They all looked at Scott, who promptly turned to Nora and then back to them.

"Why is everyone looking at me?" He said.

"Is he the one that sent her the text?" Lydia asked.

"No!" Scott shouted. "I don't know."

"Is he the one that called the police?" Allison asked him.

"I don't know!" He shouted.

Allison turned away from him, shaking her head. Nora scoffed.

"Jesus Christ, Allison! How the fuck are we supposed to know?" She snapped. "Okay? You want answers? Go out there and ask him yourself!"

Stiles gaped at her, at both of them. Allison whipped around, looking appalled. Stiles put a hand on each of their shoulders.

"Okay, let's pull back on the throttle here." He said, tugging them away from the others. Nora pushed him away.

"No." Nora said, looking back at Allison. "If Little Miss Arms Dealer wants to be helpful, she can call her father, who is probably better armed than an underfunded Sheriff's station anyway, and get him to shoot up the school again. Or she can keep screaming at us."

"What is your problem?" Allison asked.

Nora cocked her head. Stiles put his head in his hands.

"My problem is that we are trying to think ourselves out of this shit situation, and the three of you won't stop whining. Take some deep breaths and use your Goddamn heads."

She turned around, ending that argument before it could even start. Stiles looked between the two of them.

"Okay, throwing Derek under the bus, nicely done." He said scowling at Nora.

"I didn't know what to say, I had to say something." Scott spat out.

What? That had been his idea?

Nora shrugged.

"Dead men tell no tales." She said meekly.

"Exactly, if he's dead then it doesn't matter? Right?" Scott continued. "Except if he's not…" Scott trailed off and sighed. "I totally just bit her head off." Scott said his eyes flicking to Allison.

"I think she'll totally forgot about it considering-" He jerked his head at Nora. "What is wrong with you, by the way?" He asked her.

"They needed to shut the fuck up." Nora said flatly.

"Oh, and just telling them to 'shut the fuck up' wouldn't have sufficed?" He asked. "Whatever, how do we get out alive?"

"We are alive." Scott said. "It could have killed us already, it's like it's cornering us or something."

"So, it wants to eat us all at the same time?" Stiles asked.

What did it matter? They were dead now or they were dead later.

"No, Derek said it wants revenge." Scott said.

"Against who?" He asked.

"Little Miss Arms Dealer." Nora said. "It would make sense."

Stiles didn't ask why the alpha wouldn't just break into Allison's house and murder her there. Then their only problem would be going to the funeral.

"Maybe that's what the text was about." He said.

"That's exactly what the text was about." Nora hissed.

Scott looked lost and for a second Stiles could understand why Nora was just screaming at everyone.

"Someone had to send it." Stiles pointed out.

"Okay!" Jackson cut in. "Assheads, new plan. Stiles calls his useless dad and tells him to send someone with a gun and decent aim. Are we good with that?"

Stiles was not good with that. He wasn't calling his dad here so that he could get murdered by a werewolf and then he'd have to go into social services. No thank you.

"Did you just call us assheads?" Nora asked. "That's not a thing."

"Did you hear a word I just said?" He snapped at her.

"Yeah, I heard assheads."

Stiles looked away from Jackson and back to Scott.

"He's right." Scott said.

Nora whipped around, her ponytail smacking her in the face.

"Tell him the truth if you have to, just call him." Scott pressed.

Was it opposite day? Nora was mean and Scott asked him to risk his dad's life? Stiles wasn't fucking participating.

"I'm not watching my dad get eaten alive." He said quietly.

"No one should be asking you to." Nora said, looking up at him. "Do you know the number for any state police? We can't grieve people we don't know."

Stiles looked down at her. The California State Police had dissolved in 1995, but it was a nice thought.

"Alright, give me the phone." Jackson said, and Stiles felt his hand on his back.

If Nora could be uncharacteristically awful, then so could he.

Stiles turned and punched Jackson, surprising even himself. The pain shot up his arm but it didn't matter. He'd wanted to punch Jackson since he'd met him. Stiles watched his luck run out as Jackson stood up, brought this hand away from his nose and made a fist. It never connected though; because Nora hooked one of her legs through Jackson's and sent him to the floor. He landed hard on his back.

Allison darted to his side, Lydia staying frozen exactly where she was.

Now that was odd.

Nora was frowning at Allison as she pulled Jackson to his feet. Allison gave a Nora a particularly violent look. So "Little Miss Arms Dealer" wasn't forgotten. Allison turned her gaze to him. Her look clearly said "What is wrong with you?"

On a good day that was difficult to articulate, but tonight he had an answer, and that answer was werewolves.

Stiles yanked his phone out of his pocket and dialed his father. He got his voicemail, and Stiles thought he could have actually jumped for joy. But the moment died as the door rattled, the time the alpha had given them was up.

"We're at the school, dad, we're at the school." He said into his phone.

Maybe this would be the last thing he'd ever say to his father, and it was on fucking voicemail.

Stiles hung up, watching the screws shake loose from the hinges.

"The kitchen." He said. "The door out of the kitchen leads to the stairwell."

Stiles couldn't pull his eyes away from the door.

"Which only goes up!" Scott said.

Nora was already moving, her hand tugging on Stiles' sleeve.

"Up is better than here." She said.

Stiles couldn't argue with that.

* * *

Nora was not going to apologize for what she said to Allison.

Well, not tonight.

Nora was freaking out to. They all were, but she wasn't standing there on the verge of tears asking stupid questions. She could, easily. It would be easy for her stare at Scott and Stiles and demand to know how this had happened, how they ended up locked in the high school at night with two cars they couldn't drive and no way to defend themselves.

She could do that later.

She supposed that was the thing she didn't understand.

Nora wouldn't care if Allison and Lydia and Jackson were demanding answers from them on the way out of here. But she didn't understand asking "what just happened?" when the obvious questions was "what the hell do we do now?"

If something was trying to kill you, is the immediate thing to figure out "who?" and "why?"

Or is it, "how do I not die between now and five minutes from now?"

Nora would go with the latter, and she had thought that Allison, who generally seemed to have her head on her shoulders, would have done the same thing.

Apparently not.

So she gave her a demeaning nickname and told her to fuck off.

So what?

Was Nora seriously expected to be polite when something was trying to kill her?

She wasn't going to be.

They barricaded themselves one of the labs. They stared at the chair Scott had placed under the door handle. It was the single most pathetic thing Nora had seen all night.

Outside of Jackson on the ground clutching his nose.

There were footsteps outside, followed by a low growl. Nora braced herself against one of the benches, clenching her jaw shut. She could barely hear anything over the hammering of her heart.

A shadow passed by the door and carried on down the hallway.

The alpha was screwing with them.

It took every bit of will Nora had not to scream, "just kill us already you motherfucker" at the top of her lungs.

She doubted that would go over well with the others.

"Jackson how many people can fit in your car?" Scott whispered.

"Five if someone squeezes on someone's lap." He said.

"Five?" Allison snapped. "Nora and I barely fit in the back."

Not that that wasn't true, but it was ridiculous.

"We can put Stiles on the roof and Allison and I can sit on Scott's lap, sound good?" She said, winding and unwinding a strand of hair around her finger.

"It doesn't matter-" Stiles began.

"Thank you." Nora huffed.

"There's no getting out without drawing attention." He continued.

Scott darted towards the emergency exit.

"This leads to the roof, we can get down the fire escape in like seconds." He said.

"That's a deadbolt." Stiles pointed out, gesturing to the lock on the door.

Scott grimaced.

"The janitor has a key." He said.

Nora knew what Scott's plan was before he said anything.

"No." Nora told him. "Absolutely not."

"I can get it." He said. "I can find him by scent, by blood."

Nora glanced back at the others. There was an over privileged lacrosse player, a werewolf hunter's daughter who knew nothing about werewolves, and a secret genius clinging to a Regina George-esque facade. Unfortunately, their little group lacked the kind of hardened criminal that might know something about lock picking.

"Well gee, that sounds like an incredibly terrible idea." Stiles said. "What else you got?"

"Nothing." Nora turned back to them. "Stiles, we have nothing."

He stared at her, brown eyes wide.

"That sounds a lot like giving up, and you, of all people, have this constant gung-ho, "we'll be fine" attitude and you-"

"Stiles." She hissed, cutting him off. "It's Scott goes and gets the key while we all sit here and plan our funerals, or all six of us sit here and plan our funerals. There isn't another option."

She hated it. Nora hated it with every fiber of her being, and maybe she was the one who always believed everything could work out, but this wasn't just being between a rock and hard place. They were stuck between diamonds and more fucking diamonds.

"I'm getting the key." Scott said, brushing past them towards the door.

"Are you serious?" Allison asked.

"It's the best plan." Scott told her. "Someone has to get the key if wanna get out of here."

"You can't go out there unarmed." She insisted.

Nora tried not to laugh at the fact that only weapons that could help them were in Allison's house.

Scott seized a pointer and brandished it like a sword.

Nora put her head in her hands.

"It's better than nothing." Scott said.

Allison sighed.

"There's gotta be something else." Stiles said.

"There is." Lydia said, eyeing the class cabinet behind them.

Nora felt the ghost of a smile cross her face.

"What are we gonna do? Throw acid on him?" Stiles asked.

"No, like a firebomb." Lydia said, glancing at every face of disbelief in the room.

It was safe to say she was the only one in AP Chemistry.

"In there is everything you'd need to make a self-igniting Molotov cocktail." She explained.

"Self-igniting-" Stiles began, just as floored as the rest of them.

So maybe he didn't know the supposed love of his life all that well.

"Molotov cocktail." Lydia finished for him, growing more annoyed by the second.

Everyone was staring at her, Jackson looked especially shocked.

"What?" Lydia defended herself. "I read it somewhere."

Nora let out a breath of laughter.

"We don't have a key for that either." Stiles said.

Nora pinched her brow.

"It's glass moron."

Jackson rammed his elbow into the cabinet. Every one of them flinched as the shards clattered to the floor. But it didn't matter; the alpha knew where they were. They had time to make a firebomb because it was stupidly giving them time.

They watched in silence as Lydia made the cocktail, the only sound in the room was her occasional whisper of instructions to Jackson. Each of them electing to ignore the tremor in Lydia's hands.

They were all terrified. There was no need to harp on it.

Lydia handed the beaker to Scott.

"No." Allison said. "No, this is insane you can't do this, you cannot go out there."

Nora clutched the edge of the bench, furiously holding her tongue.

"We can't just sit here waiting for Stiles' dad to check his messages." Scott rebutted.

"You could die." She said. "Don't you get that? He's killed three people."

"We know that." Nora scoffed. "We informed you of that."

Stiles shoved her shoulder. But when she turned to look at him he didn't look overly sympathetic towards Allison.

"And we're next." Scott said softly. "Somebody has to do something."

Allison was unconvinced, putting herself between him and the door.

"Scott just stop." She put her hands on his chest. They were shaking. "Do you remember when you told me that you knew when I was lying? That I had a tell?" Her voice cracked and there were tears on her cheeks. "So do you. You're a horrible liar, and you've been lying all night, just please, please don't go. Please don't leave us."

Nora stared at them, remembering that only hours ago, Scott had realized that he was in love with her.

He should tell her.

Did he know that this was the moment to tell her?

"Lock it behind me." Scott said.

Nora looked down at her feet as Allison pulled him close and kissed him.

She listened for the click of the door and wordlessly crossed the room to lock it, pushing the chair back in place.

* * *

The minutes that passed after Scott left felt like hours, and Stiles couldn't do anything but pace and watch as Nora kept reaching for a necklace that she wasn't wearing.

Who had said that knowledge was power?

Stiles didn't know, but he was coming to the conclusion that the statement was bullshit. He and Nora knew about werewolves, and they were still pretty damn powerless against them.

"I don't get this." Allison said, breaking the silence. "I don't get why he's out there, why he left us and I- I can't stop my hands from shaking."

He watched as Jackson grabbed her hands, cradling them in his own. Stiles shot a disturbed look to Nora, but her eyes were on Lydia, all concern.

"He didn't leave us." Nora said, interrupting Jackson's reassurance. "He's doing this for us. One of us had to go, what don't you get about that?"

Stiles understood, she was angry and afraid and whenever someone took a dig at Scott he got pissed to. But Nora hadn't left Allison alone all night.

"Could you consider shutting up?" Jackson asked her.

Nora didn't even spare a glance at Jackson; her unnerving gaze was on Allison and Allison alone. Whatever she was about to say, Stiles wasn't sure he wanted to hear.

"Allison, your hands will stop shaking on their own if you want them to." Nora said, her voice was still. "You can't change what happened or what's happening, so what's next?"

Stiles could recall getting similar advice from her. After his mother had died everyone had kept telling him that his life would keep going, that he would heal, that he would keep living. But the fact that he was still alive when she wasn't had seemed like a cruel joke. It was Nora who had, for the most part, managed to stop him from looking at it that way.

Allison didn't look comforted, though that was never Nora's style. Allison did pull her hands from Jackson's though.

Stiles glanced at Lydia, looking for her reaction, sure she'd noticed that her stupid boyfriend seemed very attentive to a girl that wasn't her. But she was looking across the room, eyeing the bench where she'd concocted Scott's only weapon.

"Jackson you handed me the sulphuric acid, right?" She asked him. "It has to be sulphuric acid; it won't ignite if it's not."

"I gave you exactly what you asked for, didn't I?" He snapped.

Lydia's shining moment, and Jackson had screwed it up.

He also was probably going to get Scott killed.

"Yeah." Lydia said. "I'm sure you did."

Stiles had never seen anyone look less sure of anything. He caught Nora's nervous gaze with his own. She looked back at Jackson.

"If you messed that up I'm going to be the one to kill you." She said. Her voice was low.

Honestly? Stiles believed her.

"Really? Threats? You're five feet of empty headed rage." Jackson said, quirking an eyebrow.

"She threw you on your ass like half an hour ago." Stiles pointed out.

Nora just kept looking at Jackson, pinning his stare with hers until he looked away. Stiles couldn't help but feel a little pride swell in his chest. Nora knew how to play her strengths. Stiles hadn't met anyone who didn't take a long time to get used to that stare.

They lapsed into silence again and Stiles watched Nora reach out and take Lydia's hand.

A roar shook the building, the same sound that Scott had used to call the alpha here but about one thousand times worse.

Jackson crumpled to the floor, clutching the back of his neck. In a split second Nora was on her knees next to him, trying to get him to talk to her. One second she was threatening him, the next performing first aid.

Well, it's not like she could kill him if he was already dead.

Jackson started to scream and Nora shot to her feet, tearing apart the teacher's bench. Stiles peered down at Jackson's neck; there were scabs, the kind that came from the sort of wound that went deep.

Allison and Lydia hauled Jackson to his feet as the roar faded. Nora stepped in front of him, holding the lab's first aid kid.

"I'm fine." Jackson said, stepping away from the girls. "Seriously, I'm okay."

"That didn't sound okay at all." Allison said.

Nora was on her tiptoes, trying to peer up at the back of Jackson's neck.

"What's on the back of your neck?" Stiles asked, reaching out.

Jackson brought this hand away from his neck to smack him. He'd clearly forgotten Nora was behind him, shining the mini flashlight from the kit at the scabs. Jackson whipped only to get a face full of the bright white light. Nora tossed the kit on the bench and walked over to Stiles as Jackson rubbed his eyes, muttering under his breath.

"Looks like claw marks." She whispered to him.

Stiles furrowed his brow and looked back at Jackson who was still insisting he was fine.

"If the bite makes you a werewolf, what the hell does a scratch do?" He asked.

Nora shrugged.

"The only person we could ask is dead."

It took a moment for Stiles to realize she was talking about Derek. He'd almost forgotten about him.

"Did you see his body?" He asked. "When you came in?"

Nora shook her head and peered up at him. He could see his reflection in her eyes.

"Why? Where was it?"

Stiles ran one of his hands over his head.

"Like, right there in the parking lot."

Nora frowned.

"Shit." She hissed.

Stiles nodded.

If Derek wasn't dead, he, Nora and Scott had just managed to ruin his life more than it was already ruined.

"Scott's boss is probably the alpha, by the way." He added

Nora put her face in her hands and Stiles clamped his hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah."

He looked back at the others; Allison was still bickering with Jackson, trying to wheedle him into admitting he was not fine. Stiles sighed.

"Can we not argue for like half as second?" He asked.

Nora scoffed.

"That's likely." She mumbled.

"Where's Scott? He should be back by now." Allison said.

Nora's ponytail whacked him as she turned to eye the door. Stiles saw what she did, the knob moved. Nora looked at up him and then back to the Allison.

"Patience is a virtue." She quipped.

But their decision to shut up about something being outside the door didn't matter. There was a snap and a shadow.

"Scott!" Allison said, grabbing the handle and fighting to turn it. She pounded on the door. "Scott!" She shouted.

He'd locked them in.

Stiles didn't know what to think about that.

"Where's he going?" Lydia asked.

Allison wasn't listening; she just kept pounding on the door, calling after Scott.

Nora reached Allison's arm. Allison shoved her back.

"Stop!" Lydia shouted. "Stop!"

Allison whipped around.

"Do you hear that?" Lydia asked.

Stiles heard it. Sirens. A lot of them.

They raced to the windows, watching as police cars and ambulances careened into the parking lot.

"Oh thank God." Nora breathed, shutting her eyes and pressing her forehead against the window.

Stiles squeezed her shoulder. Nora reached her hand up and put it over top of his. For the first time that night, Nora was shaking.

* * *

Nora sat on the curb, staring down at her hands.

" _I think first, I have to get rid of my old pack."_

She couldn't stop those words from rattling around inside her head. They were probably going to be there for days.

Something wanted her dead.

And she was supposed to just live with that?

" _When he made me shift, I wanted to do it. I wanted to kill you, all of you."_

Those words weren't going anywhere either. Because Nora couldn't believe that away. She couldn't tell Scott he wouldn't hurt anyone when there was something that could make him want to.

Nora put her face in her hands.

Deaton wasn't the alpha at least.

Of course, that left the question of who was the alpha unanswered and every single one of their problems unsolved.

Someone sat down on the curb next to her. Nora didn't need to look up to know who it was. She could recognize Stiles by footstep, by the sound of his breathing.

"Do you need a ride home?" He asked.

"My dad's coming." She said.

She thought of the feel of her hand on his, another thing that wasn't going to leave her mind anytime soon. The past few hours, the second or third worst night of her life, had almost felt normal, at least on the Stiles front. It was like they were friends again, and Nora didn't know if that was something she wanted.

"This is gonna be fine." He said.

"That's my line." She said.

Stiles sighed, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"Well, someone has to say it."

Nora felt her phone buzz and she looked up, watching her father's car speed into the parking lot. She felt Stiles' hand ghost over her shoulder. She shot to her feet and Stiles scrambled up after her. Nora brought herself to look at him to see every bit of her fear and worry and helplessness written all over someone else's face.

"I have to go." She said.

Nora ran across the lot without a second glance, practically throwing herself at her father. She buried her face into his jacket and felt herself starting to shake again. She could feel Stiles' eyes burning into her back with whatever desperate look was still on his face. She could feel his question.

"Are we better now?"

Nora didn't know.

* * *

_Scott rested his head against the passenger door. Forget being hungover, the night after turning into a werewolf and getting shot was far worse._

_But that wasn't what was on his mind._

" _You know what actually worries me the most?"_

" _If you say Allison I'm gonna punch you in the head." Stiles said._

" _She probably hates me now." Scott said._

_Stiles didn't punch him in the head, maybe because Scott hadn't said her name, or maybe because like all of his threats, it was empty._

_Stiles just groaned._

_Scott wondered briefly if he was about to say. "Trust me; it takes a lot more than that to get a girl to hate you."_

_Because Stiles would know._

_Yeah, Scott was still bitter._

_But Nora had been at his door last night, but she was nowhere to be seen now. Scott wondered what the hell Stiles had said to her to make her come._

" _I doubt that." He said. "But you might wanna come up with a pretty amazing apology."_

" _So should you." Is what Scott wanted to say._

_But maybe that was the werewolf hangover talking._

_But probably not._

" _Or you know, you could just tell her the truth and revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you're a freaking werewolf!" Stiles continued._

_Scott just looked at him._

_Somehow, he didn't think Allison would be into that._

" _Okay, bad idea." Stiles admitted, looking over at him. "Hey, we'll get through this." He said, hitting him lightly on the arm. "Come on, if I have to I'll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once, I could do it."_

_Scott let out a laugh and shook his head._

" _Nora has a dog." He said._

_Stiles' hands tightened around the wheel but he nodded._

" _That she does." Stiles said._

_Scott looked at him. He looked about as happy as he always did when Nora came up, like someone was reaching into his guts and twisting._

_Scott still didn't feel bad for him._

" _How'd you get her to help you?" He asked._

" _I told her you were on drugs." Stiles said flatly._

" _And she believed you?"_

_Stiles shrugged. "I think I looked really pathetic so that would have helped."_

_Scott looked back to the road, wincing at the sunlight. Nora hadn't spoken to Stiles in three months, but one word that he was in trouble and she'd gotten into the jeep. Scott wasn't sure how to thank, if the right words even existed._

" _I'm glad you did." He said quietly._

" _I thought you would be." Stiles said. "And I mean-" He cut himself off and took a breath. "I can't single handedly keep both of us from losing it." Stiles tried to say lightly. "I don't think we can do this without her, Scott."_

_Scott didn't want to tell him that they had no idea what "this" was yet. He hadn't told him about the hunters. But he agreed. Over the past few months whenever Scott climbed into the jeep he glanced at the backseat out of habit, but it was always empty. Stiles had ripped a pretty large hole in their lives, and if Scott being turned into a freaking werewolf might give him a chance at fixing it, maybe it would be worth it._

_Or maybe it was too late._

_But he hoped, maybe it wasn't._

* * *

**As always feedback is welcomed :)**


	8. Heavy Hangs the Moon

**So I outlined this chapter a couple weeks ago and I've been looking forward to it since! I want to thank everyone for the feedback and stuff, really keeps me motivated lol.**

**Also this is late cause IDK it was a weird week.**

**Chapter Eight - Heavy Hangs the Moon**

* * *

Nora knew how to apologize. She knew how to let things roll off of her back like water. She knew how to hold one hell of a grudge.

She did not know how to forgive.

In theory, she understood that generally apologies were exchanged by the people who needed to exchange them, and then life went on.

But it wasn't that simple, because God forbid anything be simple.

Nora just couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said to Allison.

" _You can't change what happened or what's happening, so what's next?"_

What was next?

Nora was sick of putting her head in her hands and saying that she didn't know. She was sick of being torn in two.

She wanted to hate Stiles.

But she didn't.

So what was next?

They could carry on as they were, a bridge between them she refused to cross, words left unsaid, hanging there with the question Nora wanted answered. Could she and Stiles be friends again? Could she ever trust him again?

Nora thought that maybe she could, if the other night had shown her anything it was that they were in this together. That honestly, she didn't have much of a choice when it came to trusting Stiles. It was she, him, and Scott stacked against everything else, the way it always had been. Nora knew she could cement it, tell Stiles he didn't need to walk on a razor's edge around her, tell him they could work back to everything they'd been before he'd kissed her.

Because as much as she'd loved believing they were in love, Nora missed her best friend.

But Nora knew that it didn't matter what she wanted or how badly she missed him. Stiles still owed her something. She could want to forgive him all she wanted. She could miss him so much that it hurt almost more than he'd hurt her.

Almost.

But Stiles still owed her an apology.

And what was she supposed to do? Ask for it?

A manicured hand waved in front of her face reminded Nora of where she was. She was in her English class, numbed by a work period on a project that Lydia had insisted on finishing over the weekend. Every morning since the nightmare at school Nora had woken up to text from Lydia.

_**We need to work on this, I hope you're up! ;)** _

The only morning she hadn't was on Sunday, and by then they'd finished the stupid assignment. But when Nora turned her phone back on while walking out of church she was greeted with a text.

_**Your notes on Simon's slide aren't clear.** _

They were clear; Lydia had told her as much the day before. But either Lydia was trying to get back into Nora's good graces after she'd lost it at everyone at school, or she was keeping her mind off of Jackson. Either way, Nora had spent a lot of quality time with Lydia over the weekend. And it hadn't been bad, but she had far too much other bullshit on her mind to discuss how Nora's fashion sense could be improved. She knew she wore the same jacket every day. She did that on purpose.

"Hello?" Nora said, batting Lydia's hand away from her face.

"I have a question." She said.

Nora turned to her, finding that Lydia was looking at her like she was a particularly interesting essay on the themes in The Lord of the Flies. She was studying her.

_Jesus Christ._

"You and Stiles don't seem that broken up." She said.

It sounded more like a statement than a question.

Nora gaped at her. She knew where this was coming from, Lydia's own relationship was on the rocks and she was trying to suss out what Life After Boyfriend might look like. Still, Nora got the uncanny sense that Lydia might be reading her mind.

"We didn't speak for three months." She spat out.

Lydia nodded slowly.

"And you're friends again, just like that?" She said, sounding incredulous.

Nora knew that Lydia was coming across as judgmental on purpose, because if she wasn't, she was genuinely asking a personal question. She'd seem vulnerable. Can't have that.

"Three months." Nora said slowly. "Radio silence. I wouldn't even call us friends now."

She wouldn't, not yet.

Lydia quirked a brow and made a humming noise.

"Slippery slope." She said lightly.

For a moment, Nora could vividly imagine yanking the pen Lydia was twirling out of her hand and stabbing her with it. Because now she felt like she had to defend herself.

"We've been best friends since the second grade, and we have Scott. That stuff doesn't just go away." She said, her voice was low.

Nora was tempted to ask "what do you and Jackson have?" but she didn't. She just kept her eyes on Lydia, steady in a way she knew pissed people the fuck off.

"So what happened?" Lydia asked letting out a sigh as she did.

Nora wondered if she knew that her very well practiced disinterest wasn't working on her. She wondered if Lydia was trying to get a rise out of her. It didn't matter; Nora was going to give Lydia something else entirely.

"Did you ever read the Perks of Being a Wallflower?" Nora asked, Lydia gave her a pointed look and a head tilt that said "obviously". "We accept the love we think we deserve." Nora quoted, leaning back in her seat and gazing up towards the ceiling, breathing through the tightening of her throat. "I deserved more."

It felt good to say it out loud, even to someone who was pretending not to care. But Lydia was quiet for a very long moment before she shrugged and turned back to her laptop.

"I still think you should let me set you up."

The words "I still think you should dump your piece of shit boyfriend" were on her lips, but Nora didn't dare speak them. Lydia wouldn't take it well. And Nora, no matter how hard she tried not to be angry with someone who didn't deserve it, selfishly, didn't want Lydia to be single.

Not that Stiles had a shot with Lydia anyway, but Nora hated the thought of him having the chance to take it. Stiles didn't deserve to get what he wanted, not after what he'd put her through.

Okay, so Nora was a bit farther from forgiveness than she'd thought.

* * *

Stiles tore after Scott, ignoring Mr. Harris' voice demanding he return to his seat, ignoring the astonished looks of his classmates.

Scott was freaking out, and the only person who was there to help him was him.

And besides, Stiles could actually afford to fail that test.

Scott couldn't, but Stiles wasn't going to bring that up right now.

He called after Scott, eyeing his backpack, abandoned in the hallway. Stiles picked it up and dug his phone out of his pocket. He dialed Scott.

His ringtone echoed from down the hall.

Stiles had known he'd forget to silence it during the test. Scott always forgot to do that.

He followed the sound, hurrying as he realized where it was coming from. Scott was hiding in the locker room, and hopefully this time, be wouldn't be on top of a bank of lockers waiting to kill him.

Hopefully.

Stiles crept inside; clutching the strap of Scott's backpack like it could help him somehow.

But Scott wasn't crouched on top of the lockers snarling at him. He was under a shower; still half dressed, braced against the wall, shivering under the freezing water.

Somehow this was worse.

"Stiles." He said turning to face him. "I can't-" He stopped, staring at the floor.

Stiles resisted the urge to step back from him. His heart hammered in his chest.

"What's happening? Are you changing?" He asked.

The full moon used to mean nothing to him, now he was terrified of a stupid ball of rock thousands of miles away and terrified of his best friend because of it.

"No, I can't breathe." Scott choked out, sliding down the wall.

Stiles scrambled to get Scott's backpack off, yanking open the zipper of the outside pocket like he'd done what felt like a thousand times before. He held out Scott's inhaler, surprised to find it was even still in his bag.

"Here use this." Stiles said.

Scott looked at him like he was insane.

"Come on, do it." He urged.

Scott didn't need to believe he was having an asthma attack for his body to believe it. Sometimes, mind over matter was bullshit.

Scott took it, taking a puff of the inhaler. For a moment he didn't move, still hunched over himself, his back against the tile.

"I was having an asthma attack?" He asked, looking up at him.

Stiles let out a sigh of relief, still clutching Scott's bag to his chest.

"No." Stiles said. "You were having a panic attack. But thinking you were having an asthma attack actually stopped the panic attack." He explained with a shrug. "Irony."

"How did you know to do that?" Scott asked him, still taking his time with his breath, like he was savoring them.

Stiles couldn't blame him. Maybe Scott had forgotten what his asthma was like. It must have sucked to have been reminded.

"I used to get them after my mom died." Stiles said, though he knew Scott already knew that. "Not fun, huh?"

Stiles hadn't had an inhaler to fix his attacks, most people didn't. He'd had Nora though, the new girl who barely knew him, who hadn't known him when his mom died. He remembered sitting in the corner of their weedy school playground, his knees pulled to his chin and Scott stuck inside being made to help clean the chalkboards. Teachers had always asked Scott for help, he never said no. And the new girl who Stiles didn't even consider a friend yet had found him. She sat down the ground in front of him, a set of blonde pigtails and two different coloured eyes.

"It helps my Aunt Lily when I hold her hands." She had said to him, reaching out.

Stiles hadn't taken her hands, not then. He'd just stared at her, and that alone had helped. It wasn't everyday one of his fellow eight years olds had known what a panic attack was, or cared to try and help him.

Stiles tried not to wonder what would have happened to him if it wasn't for her and Scott.

"I looked at her, and it was like someone hit me in the ribs with a hammer." Scott said.

Stiles looked back to him, almost forgetting he was there. He felt the same way. Though Stiles knew Scott had a different "her" in mind.

"Yeah, it's called heartbreak." Stiles said. "There's about two billion songs written about it."

And none of those songs ever got it quite right, at least none that Stiles had heard.

"I can't stop thinking about her." Scott said. His voice shaking.

Stiles would never tell Scott, not outright, but it was probably a good thing that he and Allison were done.

"Well, you could think about this." He said. "Her dad's a werewolf hunter, and you're a werewolf, so it was bound to become an issue." Stiles fought to keep his voice light, but he couldn't with the way Scott was looking at him, like someone had drained every bit of hope out of his body. "Dude, I mean- you got dumped and it's supposed to suck."

Stiles hoped Scott didn't ask when it stopped sucking, because Stiles didn't know. Maybe it never did, and maybe it shouldn't. Not for him, at least. Not when he'd be the one to make the mistakes.

"No." Scott said. "That's not it. It feels like I could feel everything in the room, everyone else's emotions."

Okay, well breakups didn't cause that.

"It's gotta be the full moon." Stiles said. "So we'll lock you up in your room later just like we planned. That way the alpha, who's your boss, can't get to you either."

He and Scott had yet to sell Nora on the idea that Deaton was the alpha. She kept saying that it didn't "feel right". But that could be tomorrow's problem.

"I think we need to do a lot more than lock me in my room." Scott told him.

Stiles stared at him. What more could they do?

"What? Because if you get out you could be caught by hunters?"

"No." Scott pushed himself off of the wall. "Because if I get out, I think I might kill someone."

Stiles stared at him. He believed him, how could he not? His best friend was telling him he might kill someone, he had to take that at face value.

Stiles almost flinched when Scott reached out to take his bag from him, disappearing around the corner to get changed.

He turned to look at Nora, like he always did. She wasn't there, why would she be? It's not like he'd texted her "Hey, having important conversations in the boy's locker room, Scott thinks he might kill someone! Come join!"

Stiles ran his hands over his head, grasping at what little he had of hair. He didn't know if this god awful conversation would be made any better by her being part of it. Or if his ribs would just feel like they were being shattered with a hammer to. He felt like that more and more lately, like having Nora around was the best thing for him and the worst. He looked for her, and now sometimes he'd find her, but it would always hurt.

Stiles wondered if she felt that.

But he pushed the thought away because it didn't matter.

They were done, and that was on him.

* * *

There are some things Nora never expected to see.

Scott making out with Lydia was one of them.

She was supposed to drop off some papers from Mr. Ritter for Coach Finstock. She was supposed to walk into his office and put them on an empty desk.

Now Nora had to deal with this shit.

"For fucks sake." She said to herself, rounding a corner so that if Scott and Lydia decided to break apart, they wouldn't see her. "What the actual fuck?"

Ben, a boy in her history class and who always sat three pews behind her in church, stopped as he passed by, eyebrows raised. Nora sighed.

"All my friends are idiots." She said.

"Same." He said, giving her a sympathetic smile as he kept on walking.

Nora watched him as he left. She could easily join his friend group, made up mostly of soccer players from both the boy's and girls' team. Nice people. Normal people. Hell, she could even join the soccer team.

But no, her friends consisted of a hormonal werewolf and her ex-boyfriend who might not even be her friend.

But no matter what she and Stiles were, Nora would have to tell him. Well, she didn't have to, but she should.

Shouldn't she?

Nora collapsed against the wall, staring furiously at a poster advertising the upcoming formal.

A friend would tell their friend that their other friend was making out with the girl of their dreams.

An ex-girlfriend would revel in the fact that the girl of her ex's dreams was making out with his best friend.

It was getting complicated, being those two very different things at once.

What felt worse was that Nora knew Stiles would be infinitely more pissed at Scott than he ever would be at Lydia. Which made sense, Lydia didn't know he was head over heels for her. She wasn't actively betraying him, Scott was. Scott who was only hours away from his second full moon and reeling from his break up with Allison.

Fuck.

Stiles could wait.

She needed to talk to Scott.

Nora turned back to Coach's office, grateful to find it empty. She haphazardly tossed Mr. Ritter's papers onto Finstock's desk and raced for the back doors, her head spinning as she did.

Even if Scott wasn't thinking, and clearly he wasn't, how the hell could he do this?

But she remembered what he'd told her and Stiles.

" _When he made me shift, I wanted to do it. I wanted to kill you, all of you."_

There was a part of him that could hurt them, and Nora couldn't believe it away.

But she could try.

Nora jogged towards the field, frowning as she realized Scott was back on it, handing his teammates their asses. She winced as Danny hit the ground so hard that Nora swore she felt it.

She sprinted to the edge of the field, looking around wildly for Stiles, she didn't know if she'd tell him about Lydia. She did know that they needed to get Scott the hell away from everyone, including them.

But that wasn't an option.

She wished it was.

Nora spotted Stiles standing just away from the group of people swarming Danny. His eyes were on Lydia, namely, they were on her smudged lipstick. Nora watched as Stiles' eyes flicked to Scott and then back to Lydia. His face was twisted in pain.

Then he stormed off of the field.

Nora whirled around to find that Scott was nowhere in sight. Her eyes fell on Lydia, who was looking superior in Jackson's direction. Rage wound itself around her ribs, into her throat. She wanted to scream. She knew Lydia didn't know what she was doing, not really. She didn't know that she was fueling Scott's full moon induced mood swing. She didn't know she was driving Scott and Stiles apart on the one stupid night where Stiles needed to have Scott's back. She didn't know how uncomfortable of a position she was putting Nora in. But she definitely knew she was being petty and immature, and that alone was enough to piss Nora off. Because as much as she would love to just be a bitch sometimes, Nora tried her best not to be. Was that not the bare minimum people should do? Try to be their best selves?

The look on Stiles' face when he had realized something had happened between Lydia and Scott hurt. But there was also a part of her that was glad he'd felt it, that Stiles had felt a fraction of what he'd made her feel.

But what would a friend do?

What would the best version of Nora do?

With a sigh, she turned away from the field, racing after Stiles as he went back inside.

She followed him into the boy's locker room, bracing herself to regret this. She was about to try and console Stiles about Lydia. How the hell did that fall to her?

Nora took a shaking breath, standing at end of the bridge. She had to take a step eventually, why not now?

"Stiles?" She called out, stepping around a bank of lockers to face him.

He was ripping his gear off, tossing it around with aimless rage, like it was his gloves that had made out with Lydia Martin and not his best friend.

"What the hell?" He shouted when he saw her. "Nora, this is the boy's locker room." He froze, looking around. "Isn't it?"

"Stiles, everyone is on the field." She said. "Girls come in here all the time."

Granted, not with the purpose of having a chat about feelings, but still.

"Whatever." Stiles said, running his hands over his head. "I think something happened with Scott and Lydia." He spat out, his words stumbling over one another.

Nora picked at her thumbnail, wrestling with how badly she wanted to scream at him that she hoped this hurt him. She hoped he was in fucking agony over it. She hoped he would lie awake at night wondering what Scott had that he didn't.

"I saw them." She said, keeping her voice steady. "I went out there to talk to him."

Stiles kicked one of his shoes off, stumbling into some lockers as he did.

"Talk to him?" He asked, shocked.

Nora frowned.

"Yeah."

Stiles was gaping at her.

"Not to tell me." He said.

He said it like it was a betrayal.

Nora couldn't help but let out a breath of laughter.

Was he fucking serious?

Was the full moon getting to everyone except her?

Stiles was looking at her, his face falling like he was starting to see the bit of irony in what he'd just said.

But just in case he wasn't.

"I'm the bad guy for not telling you that the girl you have a pathetic crush on made out with your best friend?" She scoffed. "I'm sorry, but which one of us let the other think they were fucking in love with them while they were still drooling over Lydia Martin?"

Stiles was staring at her a mix of hurt and anger on his face that Nora knew wasn't her fault. And she knew he probably knew it to. On a better day, a normal day, she knew that Stiles would have shut his mouth, understood that he had no goddamn right to be ticked at her about this. But today evidently, was a shit day.

Nora watched him weigh whatever he was about to say, and a million terrible things she could say to him rattled around inside of her head.

"I never said I was in love with you." Stiles said.

His voice was flat.

Nora could have hit him. She wanted to. She wanted to pick up his stupid cleats and choke him with the laces.

But Nora didn't move.

She had known that. She had only ever said it once and when she had, Nora hadn't expected to hear it back. But to hear him say it, to hear Stiles say "I didn't love you." For a moment Nora felt like she could have shattered to pieces right there in the locker room. Their new janitor would have to sweep her up off the floor, wondering if he would get murdered like his predecessor.

The moment passed, her pain waned just like the moon would after tonight, leaving a hollow pit in her stomach.

"Stiles, I told I was in love with you and you kissed me. We dated for three months. It was fucking assumed." Nora said, her voice was raw, shaking alongside her hands, curled into fists at her sides. "Is that how you've been living with yourself?" She shouted, taking a careful step towards him. "What I did was fine because I never gave Nora verbal fucking confirmation that I reciprocated her feelings." She mocked, cocking her head.

Stiles ran his hands over his head, looking desperately at his open locker next to him as if it might hold some answers.

"No I-"

Fuck him.

"What?" Nora cut him off. "No you what?"

She stared at him, waiting, letting her eyes burn into his. However angry he was at Scott, Nora knew he could multiply it by a thousand and not ever feel anything close to what she felt.

Had she ever been this angry? Had those three months of silence been nothing but stalled time, putting a stopper in her feelings until she could get here? Seething in a locker room waiting for Stiles to say something, anything, to make this better.

But Stiles, per fucking usual, had nothing to say. He just stared at her, and she could see herself in his eyes, glassy and brown.

Nora turned on her heel and stormed towards the door.

"I thought I would fall in love with you." He said, clearly finding some courage now that she wasn't looking at him. "You know what? I think I-" But Stiles cut himself off and Nora froze but she didn't turn around, didn't dare see what his face had to say that his voice couldn't.

Maybe he what?

But Stiles didn't finish the sentence. From the sound of it, he kicked a bench.

Maybe he what? Nothing, that's what.

Nora kicked open the door and let it slam shut behind her.

* * *

Stiles felt like he spent the rest of the day with his head in his hands.

" _Is that how you've been living with yourself?"_

He didn't know. He only knew that he was. But Stiles couldn't argue with Nora. He had nothing to say back, nothing to offer. Nora hadn't done anything but love him. All Stiles could do was argue for reasons why she shouldn't hate him, and there weren't any. She was right, it was assumed he'd loved her back and that had been the idea. Nora had never said it out loud again though, the words "I love you." But it wasn't like Nora to repeat herself, not when it came to the big things. She spoke once, expected to be heard once.

" _No you what?"_

Stiles didn't fucking know. He only knew he hadn't wanted to hurt her. He hadn't wanted to break up with her. If Stiles could have spent the rest of high school, the rest of his life, with Nora, he would have. Because he would have fallen in love with her eventually.

He probably already did.

But there wasn't much of a point in figuring that out now was there?

Stiles pulled up to the curb in front of her house, not expecting Nora to be standing there waiting for him, but she was. The full moon hung over both of their heads, a reminder that she was only there for Scott.

Scott, who Stiles didn't even want to think about looking at, let alone helping.

Silently, she got into the jeep. The silence stuck, because Stiles couldn't come up with anything to say and he was pretty sure Nora was never planning on speaking to him again.

He wouldn't speak to him again. But Stiles was stuck with himself, and Nora was stuck with him because of Scott. It was easy to try and forget that, to want to forget that, but it was true.

Stiles let them into Scott's house. Nora's silence felt like a tangible thing, like if shadows had weight and could stare.

"Scott?" Melissa called out, stepping into the entryway.

She barely registered Stiles, her eyes fell on Nora, all kinds of happy and surprised.

Melissa was across the room and hugging Nora before Stiles could blink.

He stepped away, trying to keep his gaze anywhere but them. If Stiles looked at them he was sure he would cry. It wasn't much of a secret that Nora was the closest thing to a daughter Melissa had, and it had been months since she'd seen her.

Stiles wondered if Melissa knew that was his doing.

He wondered if she, like Scott, hated him a little bit to.

Sometimes he forgot how many other people their break up had hurt. It hadn't just been him and Nora. There was Melissa and Nora's parents and his father, all watching their kids either make mistakes or get hurt. Or Nora's friends, Mei and Halle who had done nothing to hurt Nora, but were the ones stuck with the fallout anyway.

Stiles stared at the ceiling light, trying not to hear them catch up. But he had to turn when he heard Melissa say his name.

"Stiles," She said, dark eyes flicking between the two of them, "he's okay? Right?"

"Who Scott?" He said. "Yeah, totally." He lied.

Melissa's mouth was pressed into a thin line and for a moment Stiles was sure that whatever Nora had been saying totally contradicted what he'd said.

"He just doesn't talk to me." She said. "Not much anymore, not like he used to."

Nora reached out and squeezed Melissa's hand, the gesture saying far more than Stiles thought he ever could.

Nora was good at silence in more ways than one.

"Well, he's had a bit of a rough week." Stiles understated.

"Yeah, I get it." Melissa said, taking a breath and digging her keys out of her purse. "Okay, well be careful tonight."

"You to." Stiles said, glancing at Nora.

He wished he hadn't, because her eyes were on Melissa and whatever the look on her face was, Stiles didn't think he was supposed to see it. Nora might have been his best friend once, but she was also the girl who could steel herself to cut off limbs and tear him apart with a sentence. It didn't feel like it was right for him anymore to see her look so torn apart.

"Full moon." Melissa remarked.

"What?" He said.

Why the hell did she care about the full moon?

"It's the full moon Stiles." Nora said flatly. "Look up."

"You two should see how the ER gets." Melissa laughed. "Brings out all the nutjobs." She stepped towards the door. "You know, it's actually where they came up with the word lunatic."

Stiles couldn't do anything but nod. If only she knew what her son was going to be like tonight.

The door shut behind her and Nora whirled around to face him.

"Could you be anymore fucking conspicuous?" She hissed.

Stiles didn't say anything, well aware that wasn't the kind of question Nora asked because she wanted an answer.

They turned to the staircase, the same one they crept up barely a month before, Nora at his back. This time she brushed past him, her footsteps heavy on the creaking steps.

* * *

Nora hated the plan, but it was the only one they had. She stood silently in Scott's doorway, her hands in her jacket pockets, one was empty, the other clutching a taser Stiles had "burrowed" from the station.

Scott was crouched in front of the duffle bag, letting the chains slip out of his hands. He was acting nothing like himself, so much so that she was scared. She was scared of Scott.

The thought left a sour taste in her mouth, but it was just one night, and the feeling would pass.

Her eyes flicked to Stiles.

All feelings, eventually, would pass.

"Do you think I'm gonna let you put these on and chain me up like a dog?" Scott asked, his voice was low.

Ideally, the answer would have been yes, but instead it was time for plan B.

"Actually, no." Stiles said.

He darted forward, snapping one of the cuffs around Scott's wrist, and the other to the radiator.

Nora and her burrowed taser were plan C.

"What the hell are you doing?" Scott roared, yanking on the short chain.

"Protecting you from yourself." Stiles said.

Nora stepped forwards, pulling her hands and the taser from her pocket. She knelt in front of Scott, hoping it was dark enough in his room that he couldn't see the tears brimming in her eyes.

"Don't make this harder, please." She said. "I don't want to hurt you."

She heard Stiles shifting his feet behind her, wrestling something else out of the bag. She stood up and turned around, well aware of Scott's eyes boring into her back, furious.

It was just the moon.

Nora looked at Stiles, and he was holding a fucking dog bowl with Scott's name on it.

That was not the moon.

That was bullshit.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" She asked him, her voice was still.

Stiles didn't say anything, he just stepped past her, his jaw a hard line. Tossing a bottle of water up in the air as he did. Before he could catch it Nora snatched it out of his reach. He looked at her, almost as angry as Scott was.

"Is this seriously what you're going to do?" She asked.

The taser was heavy in her hand. Maybe she should shock them both and be done with it, go to bed early.

Stiles took the bottle from her, poured it into the bowl and set it down in front of Scott. Nora turned away from him, her eyes burning, and reached to pick up the bowl.

"I can't fucking believe-"

Scott grabbed the bowl before she could and threw it at Stiles' retreating back. It clattered to the floor, water everywhere.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Scott screamed.

Nora's grip on the taser was white knuckled, but she didn't feel so great about pulling the trigger in a room where everything was now wet. She glanced at Stiles, nothing but a silhouette frozen in Scott's doorway.

Had he always been this Goddamn stupid?

Had he always been petty and selfish and reckless and fucking stupid?

The words were bitten back venom burning her throat. Nora felt like she was choking on it. She shoved past Stiles and into the bathroom.

Nora braced herself over the sink.

She didn't cry that night in the school.

She didn't cry this past weekend.

She didn't cry after what Stiles had said to her in the locker room today.

She didn't cry when she was waiting for Stiles or when he picked her up and when she saw Melissa.

All those times she wanted to just fall apart and she didn't. And why not?

Nora turned on the taps, letting the water run as sobs wracked her body, sudden and overdue. She was shaking, fighting to get every breath through her throat, clutching the sink so hard it hurt.

But what didn't hurt?

Stiles was doing this because of Lydia.

He was putting himself and her in danger because of a kiss, and that wasn't even the worst part. It should have been, but it wasn't.

He loved her. He had always loved Lydia.

"You kissed her, Scott!" She heard him shout. "Okay? You kissed Lydia."

Because not even the sink or her own crying could drown him out. Nora could pick Stiles' voice out of the din of the school cafeteria. She could certainly do it in Scott's house.

"That's my- that's the one girl that I-" He said.

And he kept talking. Nora could hear him, but she couldn't make out the words. They were gone, lost under the blood rushing in her ears and the hitch of breath. She was crying, loud, ugly, pathetic sobs and she hoped that there was some part of Stiles that was listening. Because if her pain was good for anything it was that it hurt Stiles to.

She knew he still cared about her. She knew that.

Didn't he?

Why did she care whether or not he did?

Nora knew why. It was because she still cared about him.

She shut off the taps but stayed where she was, trying desperately to calm down. It wasn't working and at this point, what did it matter? Each of them had fucking lost it on one way or another.

Nora shoved open the bathroom door, and the first thing she saw was Stiles, still standing in Scott's doorway.

" _That's the one girl that I-"_

"Are you being cruel on purpose?" She shouted, her voice raw but steady. She wanted to know the answer, and that cut through everything else. "Or did you forget I was here?"

Stiles just looked at her.

If there was one thing Stiles had never been, it was intentionally cruel. Nora had told herself over and over again that he'd hurt her with thoughtlessness, with good intentions, with anything but on purpose. He and her just weren't right for each other. They were just young and he was stupid and she was too naive to see it.

Or maybe he didn't care.

Maybe, like everything else, it didn't matter.

"She kissed me." Scott said from where Nora couldn't see him.

Stiles looked back to him.

Nora knew she should stop this, get between them, and stop doing all of the things she'd gotten so furious at everyone else for doing the other night in the school.

Instead she just listened, listened as Scott went on about how Lydia would have done whatever he'd wanted. She stood and watched Stiles slide down the wall, hands shaking.

Fuck him.

Fuck them both.

Were these her oldest, closest friends? Cruel, stupid, teenage boys who didn't give a shit how the things they did or said affected other people? Maybe her boys had always been the exception to what seemed to be the norm because they'd been hers.

Nora stepped back into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She sat down on the edge of the bathtub, searching for the energy, the want, to cry again. But it wasn't there. The only thing she could find was the steady rage she'd gotten used to living with.

These were her supposed best friends.

And Nora couldn't stand to look at either of them.

* * *

Stiles could hear Scott struggling against the cuffs, his heavy breath and the clink of metal on metal only feet away. He couldn't hear Nora, just her absence, a locked door.

" _Are you being cruel on purpose?"_

He wasn't, but did it matter what fell out of his mouth while he was yelling at Scott? Nora already thought he was a terrible person, and it's not like she'd be wrong to think it. So what did he have to lose? Something probably, but Stiles couldn't think what.

Would it be worse if he was hurting her on purpose? Or was it worse that he wasn't? He was still hurting her, even if he didn't mean to. If he'd meant to, it would mean he hated her, that they hated each other, and then maybe all of this would hurt less.

Stiles' eyes flicked to the shut door.

Maybe they'd get there. Maybe they'd fall in hate.

"Stiles, please let me out." Scott said, his voice was weak and low.

So he was begging now?

Stiles put his head back in his hands.

"It's the full moon, I swear." Scott continued. "You know I wouldn't do any of this on purpose."

Stiles knew that, deep down, he knew that.

So then what did that make him?

"Please Stiles, let me out." Scott said. "It's starting to hurt."

If Scott sounded anything like himself, like his best friend, like his brother. Stiles would have unlocked the cuffs. But he didn't, he still sounded angry, like a bad echo of Derek Hale.

"It's not like the first time." Scott told him. "It's the full moon, its Allison breaking up with me. I know it's not just taking a break. She broke up with me. It's killing me. I feel completely hopeless, just please, let me out."

He spoke slowly, like if he the more he could drag this out the more Stiles would want to let him out. It was working, he wanted to, but Stiles wasn't going to move.

"I can't." Stiles said, barely more than a whisper, but Scott could hear him.

The bathroom door creaked open as Scott struggled more and more against the cuffs. He started to scream and Stiles watched Nora brace herself against the doorway, her eyes shut, her mouth a thin line. The taser shoved into her back pocket, her jacket held limply in her hands.

Stiles covered his ears, but it wasn't enough. He put his head down, if he opened his eyes all he would see would be his jeans and the floor. None of it mattered. He could still hear Scott, howling in pain. He could still feel Nora, braced in that doorway.

How the hell did this happen?

Or maybe not "how". Maybe the better question was "why?" Why did the three of them, who had been through enough, who had put each other through enough, get stuck with the one of the shittiest hands Stiles could think of?

Well Scott had been dealt this hand, and Stiles dragged into it by proximity.

He had brought Nora into this, he had made that choice, and why? Did he think it would make things easier? Because he wanted her to be his friend again?

It hadn't worked out that way.

And Stiles was pretty sure he never really thought it would.

Maybe he had thought having her with them again would be worth it. Maybe that despite whatever came with werewolves; they would all find their way back to each other. Scott wouldn't hold what had happened against him. Nora wouldn't hate him. He wouldn't wake up each morning with the weight of what he did on his chest. A hammer to his ribs.

He'd thought he could make this worth it.

It wasn't.

Scott's screaming stopped.

That couldn't be good.

"Scott are you okay?" Stiles asked.

Nora was moving first, shrugging on her jacket and holding the taser out in front of her. Stiles clambered to his feet, his heart beating hard in his throat.

"Scott?" He said again, pushing open the door.

His eyes found the broken cuffs and the open window.

* * *

Scott was gone.

Nora dragged her eyes up to meet Stiles', the effort like dragging herself across the floor. Her panicked expression was looking back at her, like his face was mirror.

Without a word, they sprinted out of Scott's room, stumbling over one another down the stairs and out the front door into the jeep.

Nora wanted to blame him for not using something stronger than handcuffs but it wasn't like she'd offered up anything better.

The chains had been mostly for show, dug out of Stiles' basement to piss of Scott.

Maybe Nora was just looking for reasons to scream at Stiles.

As if she didn't have enough already.

Stiles was speeding for the preserve, paying little mind for things like stop signs or turn signals.

Nora didn't care, not tonight.

If Scott hurt someone, killed someone, that was on them.

And how the fuck had that happened?

They didn't get into the preserve. The road was blocked with deputies and an ambulance, still empty, open and waiting for someone unlucky.

Stiles was out of the jeep before Nora could speak, and she knew why. His dad was nowhere in sight.

She took a breath, trying to stave off more panic, more tears. She knew that if Scott had hurt someone, no one would know about it yet. They were in the middle of the woods, in the middle of the night, whatever Scott did, no one would know about it by morning.

Nora's heart was heavy in her chest.

What happened to believing Scott would never hurt anyone?

He'd hurt Stiles, not with teeth or claws but he'd done it.

Before Nora could think any more about it she forced herself out of the jeep, into the bite of the night air. Her eyes flitted around frantically for either of them, remembering how Stiles had sounded the night his dad had been in the hospital.

" _We're just human."_

And what had Nora told him? That everything was going to be fine? She'd believed it then, but Nora wasn't so sure now.

But she spotted Stiles, crushing his father into a tight embrace.

For a second, Nora felt like she could breathe like normal, like she wasn't being weighed down by Stiles or werewolves or anything.

The moment passed when Mr. Stilinski's eyes fell on her, looking at her like Melissa had. Nora knew she should go over to him and answer his questions. How was she? How was her family? But instead she turned on her heel and trudged back to the jeep, reluctantly climbing inside.

She wondered if Noah would ask his son if they were friends again.

Nora hoped to God Stiles said no.

* * *

**As always feedback is welcomed! On an unrelated note, over the last two weeks I read the Illuminae Files by Amy Kaufman and Jay Kristoff and I could not recommend a series higher it's so cool and so well written (and trust me when I say I'm picky as hell) .**


	9. Flicker

**IDK why Lydia appears out of nowhere in their English class in ep 9 but uh… Nah. And safe to say updates just happen on the weekend now. Funny story about this chapter I wrote half of it at like 2 am and deciphering it the next day was such a trip.**

**And this chapter didn't come so easily to me, IDK I think it's like these episodes I never liked that much so it's like a little more taxing to write them.**

**Chapter Nine - Flicker**

* * *

There was something heinous about giving a class presentation only a few days after witnessing the effects a full moon could have on heartbroken werewolf. But there Nora was, standing at the front of her English class with Lydia Martin, arguing that it wasn't inherent human nature to be a complete monster.

Though after the other night, Nora wasn't sure.

She was glad it was necessary for her to keep her eyes on her classmates, on anything but Lydia. Because Nora kind of wanted to strangle Lydia. Though that morning, Halle had stepped on the back of Nora's shoe and it had taken every bit of will Nora had not to scream at her. So maybe it was Nora that was on edge.

But who would blame her?

Their presentation ended with a whimper, Mr. Ritter being the only one who gave any semblance of a shit that she had been speaking. It was fine like that, Nora wasn't sure if in her mood; she could have stomached the intent eyes of her classmates.

She and Lydia collapsed into their seats at the back of the class, Nora immediately slumping over the desk.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." Lydia said.

Her voice was its usual biting lilt.

But today, Nora couldn't think of a single sound that wasn't grating. She felt like she'd been waking up on the wrong side of the bed since she found out about werewolves.

Scratch that.

She'd been waking up on the wrong side of the bed since she found out Stiles didn't love her back. Since he'd shattered her heart like it was nothing.

" _I never said I was in love with you."_

Maybe it had been nothing.

Nora rolled her head to look at Lydia. She could have smacked her, but what for? Lydia was just being Lydia, whatever anyone felt about that was beyond her control. Even if she was the only girl some people wanted, had ever wanted.

"Is it Stiles?" Lydia asked.

Lydia was odd, Nora had decided. There was no other way to put it, because the question implied that Lydia cared, but her tone did not. Lydia had asked the question like Nora was stupid for letting him get to her, and maybe she was, but what the hell did Lydia know?

She wondered what Lydia would say if she told her that her heart was broken because the boy she loved was in love with her instead.

The better parts of Nora wanted to believe that Lydia would care, even if she didn't show it. She'd look for humanity in all of her short silences and perturbed glances around the room.

But the better parts of Nora felt far out of reach.

"Maybe it's not my business, but really, you made out with Scott?"

Lydia blinked at her, a tiny moment of lost composure that on a better day Nora might have read into.

But who had made it her job to look for what was good in everyone?

"He and Allison broke up." Lydia said stiffly.

Nora couldn't help herself, she smiled. Maybe smile was the wrong word, because she wasn't happy.

"He's five minutes post getting dumped by the girl he loved, and you took advantage of that to get one over on Jackson, as if he fucking cared." She mimicked Lydia's bright and barbed town, and she did it well.

Lydia was just looking at her with narrowed eyes, clearly searching her mind for something particularly sharp to shoot back at her. Nora didn't care, she wasn't sure there was anything Lydia could say that would hurt her. The most painful things Nora thought she could ever hear, she'd already heard.

"Jackson cares." She said. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line.

Nora leaned back in her chair, stretching her legs out in front of her.

"No, none of them do."

Lydia hummed and continued to peer at her.

Nora could have flipped her desk.

And what would happen if she did? The class would be given a grateful reprieve from the presentations to marvel at how Nora Morrissey had lost her Goddamn mind. Then she'd be sent to guidance. Nora had never been sent there, she'd never even gotten detention. She was a steady light. Too bad it felt like the only people benefitting from that light was everyone but her.

"Someone's bitter." Lydia said. "You know, holding onto all of that isn't healthy, you should really talk to someone."

The words said friendship.

The small smirk said something else.

"Like who? You?" Nora said, looking over at her. "You make out with your boyfriend's lacrosse rival and the ex of a girl who's supposed to be your friend." She sat up. What the fuck did Lydia have to say about healthy behaviour? "Stiles hurt me, and I wasn't immature enough to stay with him. What are you?"

Lydia stared at her, an excellent mask of indifference. Maybe it was real, but Nora's patience for deciphering people was wearing thin.

"You know, I'm glad that you feel so superior." Lydia said lightly. "Tell me when it gets you somewhere."

Nora let out a breath of laughter, catching Lydia's furious gaze.

"Right back at you."

* * *

Nora hadn't wanted to dedicate her free period to distracting Allison, but Scott had asked. So she was standing on the pool deck, fidgeting with her goggles, waiting for Allison to get changed. She was going to teach her how to swim. Not that Allison already didn't know how to swim, but she didn't know how to flip turn or pace herself. And according to Allison, her whip kick sucked.

But when Allison strolled onto the deck followed by none other than Jackson Whittemore, Nora realized this endeavor might prove harder than it was supposed to be. The thing was, Jackson had found out about Scott and he wanted the bite. This left Nora to wonder if there was any way to drown him without anyone noticing. But considering the way Allison was smiling at him, it didn't seem likely.

The three of them slipped into the pool, Nora feeling very much like the third wheel. Jackson goaded Allison into accepting a race as warm up. Allison turned to Nora, eyebrows raised.

Nora suppressed a smile and shrugged.

Allison might have a future in modelling if she wanted it and Jackson drove a Porsche, but if there was one thing Nora could do and do well, it was swim.

Friendly competition or not, she was going to destroy them.

From the corner of her eye she spotted a hoodie clad figure climbing over the benches. Scott doing his best to be inconspicuous.

Nora clapped her hands together.

"Okay, let's go."

Jackson, with his usual disregard for sportsmanship, made sure to splash Allison before taking off down the lane. But Allison laughed and tore after him. With a sigh, Nora dipped below the surface and pushed off of the wall.

Winning Jackson's stupid race had been easy, mostly because Jackson hadn't been trying, not to win anyway. She watched the two of them swim towards her end of the pool, talking to each other about Nora didn't care what. The three of them stood in the shallow end Nora watching Allison and Jackson genuinely have fun.

Nora couldn't remember the last time she'd done that.

She climbed out of the pool, Scott having come and gone, her job was done. It felt wrong to leave Allison alone with Jackson when they were getting along so well, like she was pointing a knife into Scott's back. But Allison was seventeen and she'd made her choice. If Nora had been in Allison's shoes, she wasn't sure she would have made a different one.

Nora trudged into the locker room, rifling through her things to find her phone, hoping that Scott had a stroke of luck.

_**Didn't find it. Gonna keep looking, thanks for the help :)** _

Nora tossed her phone back down into her bag. He'd thanked her for her help.

As if she'd done shit.

Quickly, Nora showered and ran a comb through her hair. When she came back over to the lockers, Allison was standing there looking awkward. Ignoring her, Nora tossed her towel down onto the bench and started to get dressed.

"My Aunt Kate has been teaching me self-defense." She said, her voice ringing through the empty room.

Nora's head snapped up. She almost fell as she tried to pull on her jeans.

Of course that's what Allison's aunt was doing.

"Okay?" She said.

"I know that's not something Lydia would be interested in, but if you wanted…" She trailed off with a shrug. "I don't know I'm having fun with it."

Nora watched Allison struggle to part her hair. Remembering that she was still the new girl.

Nora picked up her phone and held it out to her.

"Put your number in, I don't think I have it." She said.

Allison gave her a small smile and took it, looking down at the screen.

"Are those your sisters?" She asked.

Nora thought of her lock screen, she, Marisa an Isabelle at the Boston Common in December, snow falling all around them.

"Yeah." She said.

She waited for Allison to say something along the lines of "they don't look like you." But she didn't, she just handed Nora back her phone, a new contact created.

Guilt pricked its way up Nora's spine. She sighed.

"Hey, I'm sorry about 'Little Miss Arms Dealer.'" She said.

Allison looked at her, her brown eyes wide. She shrugged.

"It's fine, we were all losing it a bit."

That was true, and Nora would have liked to have left it at that. But she was better than that, or at least, she was trying, sort of.

"No, I was being a bitch and it was excessive." Nora said flatly, yanking her t-shirt on over her head.

"I wasn't acting like myself either." Allison said, her voice taking a hard edge that took Nora by surprise. "I should have been stronger than that."

Nora thought oh her Aunt Kate teaching her self-defense, the woman who had shot Derek, a murderer like the rest of her family.

But Allison wasn't a hunter yet.

Nora shrugged on her jacket.

"Whatever, just be careful where you find strength." She said.

Allison gave her puzzled look.

"I just find that people go looking for what they need in places other than themselves, is all." She said lightly and added a smile. "Once you know me better, you'll get used to the impromptu life advice."

Allison let out a breath of laughter and nodded. Nora picked up her backpack and turned towards the door.

"How's Scott?" Allison asked.

Nora wondered if she had any idea what had transpired between him and Lydia. She wondered if it was her place to tell her. She decided it wasn't. Nora had enough problems; maybe it would be best to extract herself from this one.

"He'll be okay." She said, repeating what she'd told Melissa. "Just be careful with Jackson. He's not great to Lydia and people don't-"

"It's not like that." Allison said quickly. "He's better than he seems."

Nora probably should have told her that it easier to pretend for one person than it was for the whole world. Maybe there was more to Jackson than met the eye, but sometimes, wasn't what met the eye enough?

Nora just nodded and made for the door, this time Allison didn't say anything else.

Allison would learn the truth about Jackson, whatever that was, one way or another. It seemed like they were all going to hurt each other, and why was it Nora's place to put a stop to that?

* * *

Nora shoved her books into her locker, not even bothering to see what she might need to take home. One night of no homework wouldn't kill her. It was killing Scott, but he was still off looking for Allison's necklace and Stiles was fuck knows where doing fuck knows what.

Rapid footsteps coming up behind her stopped Nora from contemplating what Stiles was up to. Clearly, she and Lydia weren't finished for the day. She turned to face Lydia as she stopped next to her, almost the picture of fury. The anger wasn't reaching her eyes however, and Nora knew something was wrong.

"Jackson just referred to me as the "deadweight" in his life he's dropping." She said sharply, taking it upon herself to glower at everything in a six foot radius. "Can you believe that?"

Nora could believe that. She thought she'd made it clear that morning exactly what she'd believed. But the fact that Lydia, immediately after being dumped, had come to her made it hard to want to point that out.

"We should kill him." Nora said steadily.

It would solve more than one problem.

Lydia scoffed and leaned against the bank of lockers.

"I know how close he and Allison have gotten and if she thinks he'll just-"

Nora cut her off with a look.

"Are you sure that's what you're upset about?" Nora asked softly.

She knew the moment she'd said it that it was the wrong thing to say to Lydia. That kind of question worked on Mei and Halle and Scott, the kind of people who made conscious efforts to be thoughtful. If Lydia was ever like that, she certainly wasn't today.

Lydia narrowed her eyes.

"Are you sure that following Stiles around like a lost puppy is going to make him take you back? It doesn't seem to be working; it really just makes you look painfully insecure." Lydia pointed out.

Nora's hand was clenched so tight around her locker door that her knuckles were white. Her eyes flicked back to Lydia's quirked brow and shining eyes. She should let it go, be nice, be better.

Nora slammed her locker door shut, making Lydia jump.

"Look," she said, turning to Lydia, "you're at my locker because you don't have anyone else, and Lydia, do you want to know why? It's because you're so Goddamn stuck in your mean girl facade that you can't see three feet in front of your face. I'd appreciate it if you stopped trying to make it my problem." She snapped.

Nora turned on her heel and strode down the hallway without another glance at Lydia, her eyes burning. Whatever Lydia had to say, Nora didn't want to hear it. She'd tried to help and Lydia had brought out the claws, so fuck it. Maybe they weren't meant to be friends.

* * *

Stiles had not planned on picking Nora up on his and Derek's way to the hospital, but then she'd texted him.

_**Hey, Scott is breaking into a werewolf hunter's house and you're doing fucking what exactly?** _

So she was in a terrible mood, and he knew damn well that most of it was his fault.

Stiles turned off of the main road and towards Nora's house.

"Did you forget where the hospital is?" Derek asked him.

"We have to get Nora." Stiles said.

"Why?" Derek asked.

Stiles didn't have much of an answer to that. Maybe it was because even though she hated him, or was well on her way to hating him, Stiles still wanted to be around her. It was like the more he talked to her maybe the better chance he had of finding the right words, of un-digging the massive hole he'd put himself in. Maybe it was because the more werewolf shit he could rope her into now, the more time he'd get to spend with her before he'd lose her again. Something that Stiles wasn't sure he'd be able to live with a second time around. He knew he needed to try something, anything, to make things right with her. But "sorry" wasn't going to cut it, and maybe it was a decent place to start, but Stiles didn't know.

They pulled up in front of her driveway, and Nora wrenched opened the passenger side door. She looked at Derek, her face unreadable.

"You need to get out so I can get in." She said.

Silently, Derek got out and Nora scrambled into the back, collapsing against the back bench. Stiles wanted to ask what was wrong, but again, he was pretty sure the answer was him. Or it was werewolves. To problems he could only try to figure out how to fix.

"Why did we have to bring her?" Derek asked.

"In case someone needs to kick the back of your seat." Nora said.

The rest of the drive went by in silence.

Scott phoned him as they pulled up to the hospital, he'd found the pendant.

"Did you get the picture?" Scott asked him.

"Yeah I did and it looks just like the drawing." Stiles said.

Derek seized his arm and yanked the phone towards him. Stiles did everything he could not to yelp in pain. Nora was silent.

"Is there something on the back of it, there's gotta be something." He said. "An inscription, an opening, something." Derek insisted.

"No, no, the thing's flat and no it doesn't open." Scott said. "There's nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing. And where are you? You're supposed to be here, you're first line!"

Stiles knew exactly where he was supposed to be, hell, where he'd rather be. But he could list a few things more important than lacrosse. Finding out who the alpha is was one of them.

Stiles ripped his arm out of Derek's grasp; Nora was watching him now, intent in a way Stiles didn't even care to figure out.

"You're not gonna play if you're not here to start." Scott reminded him.

"I know." Stiles said. "Look, can you just- if you see my dad can you tell him- tell him I'll be just a little bit late. Okay?"

Stiles wasn't going to think about the number of times he'd heard the word "proud" today. He hated it. He finally got the chance to do something that would impress him, that would warrant his dad cheering him on, and he was giving it up so he could play detective with Derek Hale and is ex-girlfriend.

He hung up.

"You're not gonna make it." Derek told him.

"I know." Stiles said for what felt like the millionth time.

He glanced at Nora in the rearview mirror, wondering if some part of her, the one that had been practicing lacrosse with him for years, was proud of him to.

Her face was blank.

"And you didn't tell him about his mom either." Derek said.

"There's nothing to tell yet." Nora pointed out.

"Thank you." Stiles sighed.

"By the way, one more thing." Derek said turning to him.

"Yeah?" Stiles asked.

Derek slammed his head into his steering wheel. Pain exploded behind his eyes. Stiles shot back up, clutching his nose.

"Oh God, what the hell was-"

"You know what that was for." Derek cut him off.

He did. He did know what that was for.

Nora let out breath of laughter behind him.

He deserved it. He deserved all of it.

But still, Stiles wanted to get the hell out of that car. He pushed open his door, ignoring Derek yelling at him leave and Nora's infuriating silence. Maybe they'd bond over his suffering. Maybe he could be her new best friend and then one day they'd have beautiful green eyed children.

He walked towards the front doors to the hospital, feeling the pain in his head fade away.

Stiles didn't know how he was supposed to think of an apology when people kept whacking him in the head.

* * *

Nora crawled into the driver's seat as Stiles strode across the parking lot. She glanced at Derek, who did nothing but raise an eyebrow.

"In case you wolf out and I need to make an escape." Nora explained.

Actually, she hated the backseat, and the passenger seat, and the whole fucking jeep. Stiles had promised that it would be the first car she drove. But if she had the keys now, Nora wasn't sure if she trusted herself not to drive it into a river.

" _I never said I was in love with you."_

Derek looked over at her.

"What's the matter with you?" He asked flatly.

Nora brought her feet up onto the seat, pulling her knees into her chest. She realized how fast her heart was hammering in her chest, how badly she wanted to scream. She was furious, and of course he could tell, he could hear her heartbeat. Nora wasn't even going to ponder how creepy that was.

"Where would I start?" She asked lightly, turning to him.

He rolled his eyes.

And just like everyone else, Nora could have hit him.

"Oh, is my petty high school bullshit beneath you? You asked." She said, annoyed with herself that she'd said it like that, because now it seemed like her problems were petty and stupid. Which they weren't, at least not to her. "But for the record, my best friend's life is in danger and then most of my other issues have to do with a valued friendship ruined by heartbreak and deceit. How's that for a start?"

"That's nice." Derek said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nora would take up Allison's offer to learn self-defense from Kate Argent if only to get her hands on a wolfs bane bullet and a gun. She could solve another thorn in her side with murder. Maybe she could put Jackson and Derek in the same grave somewhere out on the preserve.

"You sure fucking aren't." Nora muttered, turning back to the hospital.

Derek's phone rang and with some reluctance he answered. She heard Stiles' voice on the other end, exasperated.

"Ask for Jennifer." Derek told him. "She's been looking out for my uncle."

Nora frowned. She hadn't realized Derek's comatose uncle was here. But then where else would he have been? This was the largest hospital in the county, and the one closest to the Hale's home.

Nora suddenly felt very sick.

"Derek, how comatose is your uncle?" She asked, shoving aside her urge to strangle him.

Derek looked at her, his focus split between her and Stiles' voice on the other end of the phone.

"What?" He asked Stiles.

His face changed, Derek's brief moment of confusion fading into something close to fear.

"Stiles get out of there right now! It's him! He's the alpha!" Derek shouted into the phone.

Nora unfolded herself from the seat and tumbled out of the jeep. If anyone got to kill Stiles, it would be her.

Derek caught her arm as she bolted across the parking lot. The stop was so jarring she almost fell. He shoved her back towards the jeep.

"You stay here." He said.

The urge to murder him returned in full swing.

"No fucking dice." Nora said, charging past him towards the doors and wrenching one open, holding it for him. "What if you need your ribs broken again?"

Derek said nothing; he just stormed past her into the hospital.

Nora followed him, curling and uncurling her fists at her sides. If she stopped moving she was afraid she'd freeze. Nora hadn't known what she was walking into at the school, but she did now.

She rounded a corner behind Derek and watched as he leapt in front of a nurse, elbowing her in the face. Nora searched for anything that resembled a weapon. Her eyes just fell on Peter Hale, clad in a dark coat, almost handsome, and smirking at Derek.

He wasn't what she imagined when she thought of whoever was behind the alpha's claws.

But monsters never were, were they?

"That's not nice." He said slowly. "She's my nurse."

"She's a psychotic bitch helping you kill people." Derek said to him.

Nora watched Stiles look frantically between the two werewolves, as unsure as she was of what he was supposed to do. Though in his case, getting out of the way might have been a start.

"Get out of the way." Derek said.

That seemed to shake Stiles loose, but he just dropped to the floor, too shocked to do anything else.

"You think I killed Laura on purpose?" Peter asked, stalking down the hallway. "My own family?"

Derek growled and lunged at Peter. Nora darted to Stiles and hauled him to his feet.

"Don't make me leave you for dead." She hissed.

Not that she ever could.

They watched as Peter threw Derek into the wall. He wasn't nearly as dramatic as his nephew, forgoing the theatrics of kicking himself off of walls to inflict pain. Nora wanted to believe she was watching a fight Derek would win, that they would win, but she couldn't. Instead she turned away, and scrambled over the nurses' unconscious body, Stiles was right behind her.

Derek and Peter's fight followed them into the lobby.

"You want forgiveness?" Nora heard Derek say to him, before being kicked across the room.

"I want understanding." Peter rebutted. "Do you have any idea what it was like for me during those years?" He asked him.

Derek spat blood onto the floor. Nora and Stiles crouched behind the receptionist's desk. She tuned out Peter as she continued her useless search for a weapon. The best she could see was a wastepaper basket, nowhere near good enough.

The glass that separated their pathetic excuse for shelter shattered as Derek was tossed through it like a ragdoll. Stiles yanked her back, sending both of them tripping over a chair and onto the floor. Pain shot up her elbow but it didn't matter. They were three feet farther than Peter Hale than they had been a moment before. That was the closest thing to a victory it felt like they would get.

She and Stiles shot to their feet as Derek crawled across the glass covered floor.

"You left the keys in the jeep, right?" Stiles asked her.

Nora felt herself nod, watching Peter stroll after Derek. There was nothing she could do to stop him, to help Derek, to help Scott. She was no more use standing where she was than she would have been at home in bed or waiting in the jeep.

She felt Stiles' hand on her elbow, tugging her towards the doors.

"We have to warn Scott." He hissed.

Reluctantly, Nora followed him back out into the parking lot, careening into the jeep. Stiles fumbled with the keys, glancing up every few moments at the hospital doors, waiting for Peter to stride out, fresh from murdering another one of his relatives.

Nora's heart crawled up into her throat as the hospital doors swung open. Stiles froze. Peter was toying with the keys they'd watch him take from the nurse, and Derek was in step beside him.

_What the fuck?_

"What the fuck?" She shouted to almost no one in particular.

No.

Absolutely not.

They had been helping Derek. Scott had been doing everything he wanted. And he was turning on them?

Nora was stepping out of the car before she really even knew what she was doing, before Stiles could stop her. Rage was heavy in her chest, tightening around her ribs until she could barely breathe.

"Ask him what your sister's last words were!" She shouted across the parking lot.

In the dark, it was hard to tell the difference between Derek and Peter's silhouettes as they strode towards their car, but one of them turned to look back at her.

Stiles grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into the jeep.

"Are you insane?" He asked.

Nora just looked at him, her thoughts racing through her head far too fast for her to pick one.

"We're fucked." Was all she could put together.

Stiles sighed and ran his hands over his head, his eyes wide with panic.

He nodded in agreement and started the jeep. Because they couldn't take a moment to settle with this, to even try and understand what had just happened. They couldn't stop. She and Stiles could barely do anything, but even still, they couldn't stop.

* * *

**Lol the working title for this chapter was everyone is having a Shit Time**

**As usual, feedback is so appreciated!**


	10. A Small Reprieve

**Wait like, I really like this chapter.**

**Also an upload? On a Friday? Woah….**

**Chapter Ten - A Small Reprieve**

* * *

 

Nora and Stiles sped towards the school. She wasn't going to bother commenting on Stiles' disregard for the rules of the road. The streets were empty, and if they died in a gruesome car accident, that would suck, but at least they wouldn't have any problems.

She doubted they would beat them to the school, considering what Nora thought werewolves might be able to make of even the briefest of head starts.

There was so sign of either of them or the stolen car as they pulled into the school parking lot. But it was chaos, cheerful chaos, but chaos nonetheless. They had won the game.

Nora spared a glance at Stiles as they muscled their way through the crowd, fighting the tide of people leaving the school so that they could get in.

To most people a lacrosse game probably wouldn't be that much to give up, but Nora knew what it was to him.

They burst into the boy's locker room, Nora caring less and less each time she went in there what she might see. But she just saw Scott, sat on a bench, hunched over himself, still dripping wet from the shower.

"We have a huge problem." Stiles said breathlessly.

But Nora's one look at Scott had told her that he already knew.

"Trust me, I know." He said.

Nora tried to ignore the slight tremor in his hands, the blood dripping down his back from a wound that had since healed.

She leaned back against a locker, grateful for the grounding feeling of the lock pressing into her back as Scott explained. Peter was killing the people responsible for the Hale fire, killing the people responsible for killing his family. She shut her eyes, letting it wash over her, listening to Scott and Stiles talk, about what to do, how to stop him. Nora sighed and felt their eyes fall to her. She didn't need to look at them to see their expressions, expectant, hopeful maybe. She would have an idea, or at least a reassurance.

She did not.

"Why should we stop him?" Nora asked, her voice was barely a whisper.

Stiles gaped at her. Scott was frowning.

"He wants me to-"

Nora waved her hand, cutting him off.

"No, I got that part, and that we do need to stop. But the rest of it? Is it bad that I'm not really seeing how it's our problem? No one innocent has died yet."

_Except Laura Hale._

The words were on her tongue but she didn't say them.

"The janitor." Scott said.

Nora hated to admit that she had forgotten about him.

"Fair." She said.

Stiles was just shaking his head.

"So we're all in agreement?" He asked. "We have no idea what the hell we're gonna do?"

They were in agreement about that. They had no idea what to do about Derek and Peter.

Derek and Peter.

Nora couldn't even begin to understand how that had happened.

Maybe Derek had weighed the deaths of the rest of his family against the death of his sister. But could someone really do that? Pick which of the people they loved deserved to be honoured with avenging them? It was a twisted version of the needs of the many outweighing the need of the few, and Nora didn't want to think about it.

But it was stuck in her head now.

That and a million other things.

So she didn't argue when they ended their problem solving session for the night, Scott still wearing a towel and her elbow still throbbing. Nora climbed into the jeep without a word, Stiles meeting her silence with nervous energy. He pulled up in front of her driveway, having gone the full twenty minutes without saying anything, without so much as glancing in her direction. Nora knew it was hard for him, to leave things be. How were they supposed to deal with their problems if they didn't talk about them?

Nora resisted the urge to laugh at all the things she and Stiles were decidedly not talking about. But maybe the time would come, or it wouldn't. She didn't know.

Nora moved to climb out of the jeep and froze, feeling him watching her. She was furious at everything and everyone.

But Nora was also tired to the bone.

"If it's any consolation, I think you would have played well tonight." She said.

Nora closed the door before she could hear Stiles' response, or even see it on his face. She had to train herself to stop looking.

* * *

 

That night Nora slept like the dead, right through her alarm. Sofia had to wake her up, chastising her for making them late as she tripped over herself getting dressed. Of course, Sofia still made sure she ate a decent breakfast, and because of that, she was actually almost late.

Nora raced to her locker with only a few minutes to spare before the bell. Maybe not late to some people, but late to her. To her surprise, Mei and Halle were still milling around, wearing twin shit-eating grins. Nora wondered if she was supposed to know what that was about and had forgotten. She hoped not.

"You know formal tickets went on sale yesterday." Halle said brightly. "Did you get one yet?"

Nora scoffed, tossing her books into her backpack. She wouldn't even be planning on going to the stupid dance of she hadn't already fallen in love with a dress.

"I'll get one at lunch." She said absentmindedly.

Nora knew for a fact that she'd left her wallet on her bedside table, so she'd probably be buying a ticket tomorrow. But what did it matter to them? She'd get a ticket.

"Maybe wait?" Mei suggested.

Nora froze and turned to her friends. They exchanged a conspiratorial look. She slammed her locker shut.

"Okay, who's asking me?" Nora asked sharply.

Mei and Halle shrugged. But clearly, they fucking knew.

"It's just friendly, okay?" Mei insisted. "At least one of us should have a date."

Nora thought of Jess, she had taken to sitting with Neil's friends at lunch and keeping her things in his locker. They would one hundred percent be going to formal together. It seemed she and Neil were trying hard to remain a couple this time, Nora wondered how long it would last. But she wondered more when Jess had stopped being part of "us". She felt terrible that she'd been so preoccupied with Scott and Stiles and hadn't noticed that happening. Their quartet was turning into a trio and if Nora didn't get her shit together, it would probably end up with Mei and Halle as a duo.

She looked at them, at their smiles that said they knew something that she didn't. But more importantly, they looked happy, not just at their attempts at matchmaker, but for her. Or at least, they wanted Nora to be happy so that they could be happy for her.

She couldn't exactly deny them that could she?

She didn't want to.

"Who is it?" Nora asked again, more for show than interest.

"You don't hate him." Halle said.

The list of people Nora did not hate was actually quite long. But the bell rang, reminding them they had places to be.

Mei swore and sprinted for the stairs.

Hell hath no fury like a woman late for math class.

Halle just laughed at Mei's retreating back and swung an arm around Nora's shoulder.

"Don't you trust us?" She asked.

Nora trusted them just fine; it was whether or not she trusted herself on a date that was the problem.

* * *

 

When Nora strode back to her locker to get her lunch, the mystery of who was asking her to formal was solved. Ben, the soccer player who always sat three pews behind her in church, was leaning against the bank of lockers, toying with the two tickets in his hand.

She watched him bring his hand up to his mouth as if to bite his fingernails and think better of it, raking his fingers through his mop of black hair instead.

Ben's eyes scanned the hallway, hazel and intent, looking for and finding her. He smiled. Nora wouldn't have known he was nervous if she hadn't been watching him.

Her smile back came easily. Why wouldn't it? He was a good guy with whom she had barely any history.

Well, they were in the same history class, but Nora didn't think that counted.

She strode towards him and opened her locker.

"What? No grand gesture?" She asked him, dumping her books onto the shelves.

Ben let out a short laugh.

"I don't think mutual public humiliation would be a great bonding experience." He said lightly, turning to her, still leaning on the lockers.

Nora wondered if it was an effort to seem shorter, if it was it didn't work. Ben was wiry and tall, and Nora knew the rest of his family, they all were. He was still smiling at her, from the slight chip on one of his incisors to the small crinkles around his eyes.

Halle had been right, she did not hate Ben.

"Besides, we're just friends." He added, his gaze soft.

Ben's circle of friends had a lot of overlap with hers. Everyone knew about her breakup with Stiles, but he would have been one of the people with a better idea of just how much it had hurt.

He also would have seen her crying in church the Sunday after it had happened.

Pushing that memory away, Nora plucked one of the tickets from his hand.

"And how do I pay you back for this?" She asked for no reason other than wanting to know what he would say. Nora didn't have the energy for an innuendo.

"By telling me what colour your dress is so that my tie doesn't clash." He said. "I don't wanna look stupid."

_Not a bad answer._

Nora smiled down at the ticket in her hand.

"Are you going to a pre?" She asked him.

Ben shook his head, "You?"

"No." Nora said.

"So I should pick you up at your house?" He asked, still grinning. "How's around seven?"

Nora looked up at him, this boy who had been on the peripherals of her life for years. She wondered if he'd been waiting to ask her out, and if so, for how long?

Did it matter?

It wasn't like he was coming right out with the "I'm in love with you."

Nora shuddered at the memory.

"Seven is good." She said. "Do you remember where it is?"

He'd been at her birthday party last May; Nora remembered that much from the night. Ben nodded.

"Cool." He said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Text me about the dress."

Nora wondered if it would be weird to tell him that she already knew what it would look like.

"If you just wear a black tie it should be fine." She said instead.

"So a white suit with gold tassels à la Elvis is a no?" He asked her, brows furrowed.

Nora let herself laugh at that.

"Absolutely not."

Ben smiled again, though throughout their whole conversation, he hadn't really stopped.

Had she?

Ben turned to walk away and stopped.

"Is anyone in your family allergic to flowers?" He asked.

Nora shook her head no, half hoping he was asking out of a bizarre interest, or a strange fetish, and not because he was actually going to bring her flowers.

She watched Ben walk away, falling into step with one of his friends as he did, waving away his friends' wheedling arm around his shoulder. Nora caught herself smiling in her mirror. She resisted the urge to stop herself. It felt ridiculous to maybe be excited about a stupid dance, with everything else going on. But was it? Didn't she deserve some kind of reprieve?

Nora pressed her head against her locker. Pretending not to hear Mei and Halle as they came up behind her. Mei was practically jumping.

"What did you say? What did you say?" She asked, prodding her sides.

Nora rolled her eyes.

"I said yes." She told them.

Mei started pumping her small fist, but Halle put a hand on her shoulder and levelled her eyes with Nora's. She did nothing but quirk a brow. Nora just gave her a small smile and they both turned back to Mei, who was still dancing. A laugh bubbled up out of her throat as she watched her, but her eyes were burning.

"You know I love you guys, right?"

Mei went still and then pulled her into a bone crushing hug. Halle did the same, wrapping her long arms around the both of them.

"Don't get all sappy on us now, Nora." Mei said.

But Nora's breath hitched, caught in the tightness of her throat.

"Too late."

* * *

 

It seemed like everyone was making it a personal mission to appear at Nora's locker. When she went to put her things away and get ready to either go home or go to the gym, Allison was there with Lydia. Lydia looked confused, Allison looked determined.

That look on her face alone intrigued Nora.

When Allison asked if she would run an errand with them, with no details, even better.

When they started driving towards the preserve, that was when Nora finally got nervous.

"Allison, when you said you needed to stop for an errand before we went shopping, a hike in the woods, was not what I was expecting." Lydia remarked, getting winded as they continued to trek farther and farther from the road.

Allison was striding ahead of them, holding a bag that clearly held a bow. Nora had opted to stay silent until she knew what the fuck was going on. There was no reason to aggravate the girl with murderers for parents who was carrying a deadly weapon.

Nora scanned the ground for a big stick she could pick up, as if that would be any good against a bow and a well notched arrow.

"Before I forget, I wanted to ask if you're okay with something." Allison said, glancing back at them.

If she was going to ask if they were okay with being target practice, Nora was going to have to say no.

"Jackson asked me to the winter formal." Allison continued.

Lydia was silent for a moment, and Nora couldn't tell much from her expression considering she was looking at the back of her head.

"Did he?" Lydia asked, forcing the lightness in her voice.

"Just as friends." Allison said. "But I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it first."

The words said friendship.

The tone said something else.

As did the impromptu trip into the woods.

"Sure." Lydia chirped. "As long as it's just friends."

"Well yeah, I mean, it's not like I would take him into coach's office during lacrosse practice to make out with him or anything." Allison said.

Nora stifled a laugh with a cough. Lydia whipped around and looked at her, a question in her wide eyes. Nora just shrugged and look a few hurried steps to walk beside her.

"I saw you, anyone else could have" She hissed.

"About that…" Lydia began but trailed off.

Nora doubted there was much to be said.

"So did you take us out here to kill her?" Nora called up ahead to Allison.

Allison turned around; she was the picture of confusion. Nora looked pointedly down at the bow.

"Oh," Allison said, evidently just realizing how this looked, "no, I want to test something."

Nora sighed and watched as Allison set the bag down on the ground, laying out her bow and a set of arrows.

This couldn't be good.

Allison picked up an arrow head and began screwing it onto a shaft. She and Lydia stepped closer, peering down at her. The head wasn't a shining piece of metal sharpened to a point, it was bulky and dark. Nora had no idea what is could be.

She wasn't sure she wanted to find out, either.

"What does that do?" Lydia asked.

"We're about to find out." Allison said, sounding almost eager.

She notched the arrow and took aim with the kind of confidence that only came from experience. Allison wasn't a hunter yet, but the skills were all there. Nora's stomach churned with rage for this girl she was quickly considering a friend. She was seventeen, and being groomed for murder.

The arrow flew into a tree and exploded in a flash of light. Nora winced, shying away from the burn.

If it hurt her eyes, she couldn't imagine the pain for someone with eyes far more sensitive than hers, someone like Scott.

"What the hell was that?" Lydia asked, her voice was quiet.

"I don't know." Allison told her.

That didn't matter; the feeling of unease crawling up Nora's spine told her that Allison would know soon enough. The real question, the only important one, was what she would do when she found out?

If Derek was any kind of example, she'd side with her family no matter what kind of heinous bullshit they did.

Lydia clapped her hands together, jarring Nora from her thoughts.

"Well, that was fun." She said. "Any more lethal weapons you want to try out?"

Allison's head snapped away from Lydia, towards the crack of a branch. Lydia's face fell as Allison handed her the bow.

"Hold this." She said.

Lydia asked her why but Nora could guess. Allison was going to investigate the source of a snapped branch. Nora pinched her brow as Allison told Lydia the noise was probably nothing.

"What if that nothing is something and that something is dangerous?" Lydia asked.

"Shoot it." Allison told her.

Lydia looked blankly down at the bow. Nora took it from her hands and picked up one of the remaining arrows. Allison quirked a brow.

"Summer camp." Nora said and waved Allison away.

_Once._

She wasn't all that worried about what Allison might find, not in broad daylight. Nora tested the strength of the bowstring, the feel of it in her hand. She could see why Allison liked it, liked the strength she felt it gave her.

Nora relaxed her arms, letting the weapon dangle in her hands.

She'd rather have her strength in her own two hands, not a weapon someone could easily wrench out of them.

But the bow was a decent substitute.

Her eyes flicked to Lydia, who showed no sign of still being angry at her about the day before. Maybe it was forgotten, and Nora was happy to forget it. Lydia clucked her tongue.

"I don't suppose you'd let me find you a date to the formal?" Lydia asked, her voice back to its usual lilt.

"I have one." She said, suppressing a smirk.

Lydia's expression was something between disappointment and nausea. Nora wondered if it was because she was expecting her not to have one, to be alone like she was. Or if she didn't realize Nora was capable of finding a boy with some interest in her all on her own.

Not that that was exactly what happened, but still.

"It's Ben Walsh." Nora added.

"Who?" Lydia asked, her mask back on.

Nora supposed a lanky soccer player who needed a haircut was not on Lydia Martin's radar, but her superiority stung a bit. Did she think she was doing, had done, so much better with Jackson because he was popular?

Nora wondered vaguely what it was that made people care about that sort of thing, but she knew, it was insecurity. She opened her mouth to say something, probably about how Jackson sucked, but Allison reappeared form the woods, her smile wide and a necklace dangling from her hand.

Maybe Scott still stood a chance.

Nora handed her back her bow.

Maybe Allison did to.

* * *

 

Usually, Nora was the only one taking advantage of the school gym in the evening. But the obnoxious music emanating from the boy's locker room told her that tonight, she wasn't alone. She got dressed furiously; exercise not doing what it usually did to help her mood, not with whatever the fuck was blasting from some asshole's speaker.

The Porsche Nora had seen on her way in told her just who exactly the asshole was.

If she wanted to, she might actually be able to get away with murdering Jackson.

Though Nora doubted getting away with murder was as easy as it looked on TV, and she wasn't sure she actually wanted Jackson dead. But having him out of the way would be nice.

The music stopped.

She heard voices, both male. Jackson and someone else.

The music started again, quieter this time, and a different song, something more tolerable, not exactly Jackson's style.

Nora crossed the girl's locker room and pressed her ear to their shared wall.

"I'm not afraid of you." She heard Jackson say.

God fucking damnit.

Not one day.

Not one day could go by without this shit.

Nora pulled on her jacket and seized the field hockey stick that was propped up in the corner. It was more of a tradition than anything else, stemmed from one incident, but the stick stayed and if it was moved, it was replaced.

Nora strode out into the hallway as they did, Derek glancing at her as she did. He would have known someone was in the other locker room, maybe he had even known it was her. It didn't matter, because her helplessness from the night before had been quelled by rage.

Someone had to be angry for Laura Hale.

Why not her?

Nora's eyes fell on Jackson and for a moment they all stared at each other, waiting for the first word, the first move.

She made it.

"Derek, if I could have a word with my peer." She said.

Jackson scowled at her.

"We're not friends." He snapped.

"Did I say friends?" Nora asked him.

"What the hell to do you want?" Jackson asked.

Nora was sure she'd had said what she wanted, but she looked from Jackson to Derek. He looked at her like how one might look at some sort of pest.

Good.

"I think the better question is, do you really think this bastard is going to make you a werewolf?"

She tightened her grip on the stick.

Jackson glanced between them, looking at little sick. He might have claimed not to be afraid of Derek, but he was afraid of something.

"What do you know?" Jackson scoffed, punctuating it with a quirk of an eyebrow.

"I know that Scott's life has been hell." Nora said, her voice cutting through the hall, loudly, clear and strong. "I know that this leather clad jackass sided with the man who murdered his sister, and I think that speaks volumes about the kind of person he is." Nora looked at Derek, searching his face for any flicker of anything.

There was nothing.

"The kind of person that will throw you to the wolves without a second thought, without any guilt." Nora finished.

_Pun fucking intended._

There was something in Derek's expression now, rage.

Maybe she was getting to him; maybe she was just getting on his nerves. It didn't matter. Unfortunately, what mattered was Jackson.

"This isn't going to go how you think it will." Nora said. "Nothing does. Either he and his uncle kill you, or the Argents will. That's where Scott is, and that's where you'll be."

Derek scoffed, and Jackson looked at him.

"That's because Scott is an idiot." Derek said, turning to meet Jackson's eyes. "Are you going to listen to her, or me?"

Nora found Jackson's eyes through the dark of the hallway. It wasn't her job to stop him, she knew that. But if she didn't who would? Scott would try. Scott, who was in this mess he didn't ask for because he just wanted to make the right choices, to do the right thing.

So could she.

Derek turned away and Jackson followed him.

"Why would you dig Laura a grave if you were just going to shit on it later?" She called after them.

It was low. Nora knew that. Guilt pricked its way up her spine, burrowing under her ribs.

But doing the right thing didn't mean having to be nice about it.

Derek reeled around, backing her into the wall before she could blink. On instinct she swung at him, but Derek caught the stick and wrenched it out of her hand, sending it clattering across the floor.

The space between them was small and filled with a threat.

Nora didn't dare move.

She didn't dare tear eyes away from Derek's either.

"Stay out of the way." Derek said.

His voice was so quiet Nora wasn't sure if Jackson could hear him, but she did. Every cell in her body was screaming for her to listen, to look away, to walk away, and to let Jackson go.

Derek turned and walked away without another glance back. Jackson followed him, fear written in the set of his shoulders.

Nora collapsed against the wall, wrestling her phone out of her pocket with shaking fingers. She blinked back tears as she dialed Scott.

He didn't answer.

Nora tried him again.

To no avail.

She tried Stiles.

Not even he picked up.

She knew that something was wrong. If Derek was at the school, God only knew where Peter was.

Nora took a shuddering breath, and then another.

She didn't believe they were going to turn Jackson, even if they were going to, Jackson shouldn't be bitten.

Nora thought of him following Derek out of the school and an idea, a bad one, took shape in her head.

She charged into the boy's locker room and rifled through Jackson's things. When her hand closed around his car keys she froze for a moment.

She had nothing. No weapon, no training, no backup. Not even a driver's liscense.

She should go home and let things unfold as they were meant to.

But if this was how things were supposed to be, why did Nora feel so wrong?

Jackson Whittemore shouldn't die at sixteen, when he was the worst possible version of himself.

She didn't have to save him.

But Nora didn't think she'd be able to live with herself unless she tried.

* * *

 

Nora parked just close enough to the Hale House for her to be able to see it. The drive had gone better than expected, the empty nighttime streets and the small size of the Porsche making it easier. She hadn't crashed or gotten pulled over. Driving wasn't as hard as Sofia made it out to be, that much was certain.

Nora closed the door to the Porsche as quietly as she could, though not able to hear much over the hammering of her heart. Every step closer she took to the house a voice, her own, rang in her head.

" _Turn back."_

Nora kept walking.

" _You're going to get yourself killed."_

She crouched down at the edge of the tree line.

" _You can't help him."_

Two silhouettes stood on the porch; it was too dark to tell the difference between Derek and Jackson.

Nora wished she had a plan other than appealing to Jackson's better nature, or Derek's, or Peter's whenever he decided to show.

But neither Scott nor Stiles were answering their phones.

Nora tried desperately not to think about why that might be.

The two figures disappeared into the decrepit house. It loomed over her, a greater monster than anything inside of it.

Something moved in the dark on the other side of the lot.

Nora's hands curled into the ground, as if she could pull a weapon out of it, or maybe just some good sense.

She mumbled the Hail Mary.

A flash cut through the dark and shadows poured out of the trees.

The Argents.

They began to fire, bullets flew without discrimination into the Hale House, splintering wood and breaking bone if they hit home.

A figure flew out of the side of the house, Jackson, his hands thrown over his head.

He wasn't crouching.

He was a massive target.

Nora sprinted for him, and collided with him, sending them both to the ground in a painful fury of limbs. Jackson grabbed at her, clawing at her neck. It was a pathetic show of self-defense from a boy who had never felt the need to actually learn any. Nora grabbed his wrist and twisted, forcing him off of her.

"It's me dumbass." She hissed into his ear.

Despite how close they were, Nora wondered if he could hear her over the din of gunfire.

Jackson stared at her, recognition falling over his panicked expression. There was a lull in the shooting.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Jackson had the audacity to sound pissed. Nora seized him by the collar of his jacket as bullets began to fly again.

If she got shot because of Jackson Whittemore, Nora was going to have words with God.

"Saving your stupid life." She said to him as they hurdled past the tree line and kept going, leaving the wolves and their hunters to their business.

"Wait," Jackson said, stopping, his breath was heavy, "Scott was there."

It took a moment for Nora to understand what he had said, gunfire ringing through the woods and inside her head.

It wasn't a sound she ever wanted to hear in real life.

But there it was.

"What?" She asked him.

_"Scott was there."_

Her heart fell into her stomach. Nora could have thrown up. She might.

"He was trying to stop Derek." Jackson told her.

_Of course he was._

Without thinking Nora pulled Jackson's keys out of her pocket and tossed them to him. He caught them out of reflex. For a moment they stared at each other and Nora pointed in the direction of his car. She looked back towards the house, the shooting had stopped, she could only hear voices.

Maybe if she got on her knees and begged Chris Argent to let Scott go, he would.

It was worth a shot.

But before Nora could take a step Jackson had lifted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"What the hell are you doing?" She snapped.

"Returning the favour." Jackson said.

Jackson didn't put her down until he was standing next to the passenger side door and forcing her through it. Nora didn't protest. It was too late anyway; the hunters were piling into their trucks and driving away.

"Keep the headlights off and follow them." Nora said.

Jackson scoffed.

Nora leaned back into the seat; they both stank of gunpowder and dirt. She knew there were leaves in her hair but it didn't matter, not if Scott was taken, or worse.

Her heart broke at the thought.

So Nora didn't let herself think it.

She just watched the trees go by, the woods slowly turning into empty fields, then to homes.

"Why did you come?" Jackson asked, breaking the silence Nora would have preferred.

"Because I knew it's what Scott would have done." Nora said. "And turns out it was."

"But why?" Jackson pressed.

Nora took a moment to look at him. He seemed more human in the dim light of his car, having just almost died. Maybe this was the Jackson Allison saw. Maybe it was what Lydia had seen.

Nora still didn't think it was much.

"I don't know how to explain to you that you should care about other people." She said.

"Even if it means getting yourself killed?" Jackson said, incredulous.

"I'm not dead yet." Nora said.

Her voice was still.

They lapsed into silence again.

"How did you know Derek was going to try and kill me?" Jackson asked.

It was Nora's turn to scoff.

"Lucky fucking guess." She said.

Why couldn't he just say thank you?

Nora thought of him forcing her back into the Porsche when she would have rather done something dangerous and stupid.

Maybe in his own way, Jackson had thanked her.

"You're an asshole for how you broke up with Lydia, by the way." Nora added numbly. "Sorry, not an asshole, heartless."

Someone needed to say it, and it didn't seem like Lydia had any friends who would. Allison was going to the fucking formal with him.

Jackson didn't say anything, but his grip tightened on the wheel. Nora waited for him to say something, to defend himself, to be the way that he was.

But Jackson said nothing.

Nora pulled her phone out of her pocket and considered calling Stiles, telling him what had happened. But maybe by some stroke of luck, Stiles had found his way to a good night's sleep. Maybe he'd made it through the day being able to pretend his life was normal, werewolf free.

Nora put her phone back into her pocket.

She could let him have one day. God knew she wanted one.

"Hey, where the hell do you live?" Jackson asked her.

"Two streets down from you, dumbass." Nora said.

They fell into silence again, and finally, Jackson let it stick.

* * *

 

**Per usual feedback is always appreciated :)**

**Unrelated, but the Monsters of Verity duology by Victoria Schwab is lit and everyone should read it.**


	11. Take This Night

**he's a long one. No splitting chapters into two parts, we die like men!**

**Also two in one weekend, we're grinding to the finale folks, next week, end of season one!**

**Chapter Eleven - Take This Night**

* * *

 

_Nora smiled into Stiles' mouth._

_Locking themselves in someone else's parent's bedroom might not be that original, but they were at a party, it was the thing to do._

_His hands found the hem of her t-shirt like they had only a few times before. Nora broke the kiss to yank it off. They were inching closer to something that Nora was getting a little tired of waiting for, but she was not going to lose her virginity in Greenberg's house. So she would keep waiting._

_She was hovering over him. Nora bent forwards to kiss him again but stopped._

_Stiles was staring blankly at her, a question in his eyes._

" _Why do you think Lydia didn't come?" He asked, the words falling out clumsily, tripping over a little too much to drink._

_Nora wasn't sure she'd heard that right, that those words had come out of Stiles' mouth and not one of her nightmares._

_But they had._

_She stared at him, a reflection of his blank look._

_A knock on the door jarred Nora._

" _Hey, how long are you gonna be? Not that long right Stilinski?"_

_Nora didn't recognize the voice but it didn't matter. For a moment nothing else did. The world outside didn't exist; it was her, Stiles and what he'd just said._

" _I am on top of you, pretty much topless, and you're thinking about Lydia fucking Martin?" Nora heard herself speak, but she didn't remember deciding to._

_Stiles gaped at her, as if he also didn't believe what he'd said either._

_There was this look on his face, confusion, shame, guilt, all mixed into one, staring up at her with wide brown eyes._

_Nora thought that she might be sick all over him._

_More importantly, she had thought this was done._

_She hadn't heard Stiles so much as utter Lydia Martin's name since spring._

" _Do you still have feelings for her?" She asked._

_Her voice didn't sound like her own, shaking and weak and far away. She wasn't here, this wasn't happening._

_Stiles loved her._

_Didn't he?_

_He was frozen, but how could he freeze unless he didn't want to tell her the truth?_

" _Do you love me?"_

_Stiles didn't say anything. She could see that he was searching for words but if he meant them, how could he choke on them?_

_Nora waited one moment, and then another._

_It felt like eternity, an eternity of watching Stiles struggle with words he couldn't force past his lips._

_If he loved her, if he wanted her, he would have said it by now._

_Nora's feet were carrying her to the door without another thought, another glance. Tears burned in her eyes and started to fall as she forced her way through the party, still only wearing her bra and jeans and not even caring. Any whistle or comment was lost under the screaming of her pulse in her ears, how hard she was fighting to get air into her lungs._

_Nora burst through the door and sprinted down the driveway, collapsing on the curb before she could do something stupid like run into the street._

_Sobs wracked her body, violent and loud. She leaned forward and wretched, Smirnoff Ice, Heineken and pizza._

_Halle's voice was a distant sound. Her hand on her back felt like nothing more than the tickle of her hair._

" _What happened?" She asked._

_Nora put her face in her hands._

" _Who did this?"_

_She could see Halle wrestling her phone out of her pocket, inebriated fingers struggling with the keys._

" _Are you hurt?" Halle pressed._

_Nora tangled her hands in her hair._

" _He doesn't love me." She choked out, leaning into Halle's side, into her open arms. She continued to sob. "How can he not love me?"_

* * *

 

Nora woke up to missed calls from the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic, of all places. But when she listened to the voicemails it was Scott, very much alive. For a moment, Nora felt like she might have been able to throw herself off of her roof and fly. Then she saw the text from Stiles.

_**Going to Scott's, getting you in 30.** _

That was twenty minutes ago.

Nora threw on clothes without much regard for what they were and by the time her toast had popped out of the toaster Stiles' jeep was in front of her house. Sofia eyed her over her morning coffee.

"You don't seem happy to be hanging out with him again."

Nora stared at her.

She was not.

But it begged the question; would she be even if it weren't for werewolves?

"Scott's failing everything so…" She said and hurried out of her house.

Stiles leaned over and popped open the passenger door for her. He frowned.

"Did you sleep?" He asked.

Nora scoffed and climbed inside.

"Not well considering NONE OF YOU WERE ANSWERING YOUR FUCKING PHONES!" She screamed at him.

Stiles reeled back, looking sheepish.

"Yeah, some stuff happened." He said and began driving.

Nora let out a breath of laughter, thinking of the bullets whizzing over her head at the Hale House. The scent of gunpowder still clung to her hair.

"Yeah some stuff happened to me to." She said.

Stiles scowled at the road.

"Scott told me you were at the Hale House."

"Yeah, I went after Jackson." Nora said flatly.

"After Jacks- why the hell would you do that?" Stiles was slack jawed, his eyes darting frantically between her and the road.

"I didn't think he should get brutally torn apart by Derek and Peter." She said.

"You could have been brutally torn apart by Derek and Peter!" Stiles said, clearly fighting to keep his hands on the steering wheel instead of waving them at her.

"I-" Nora began but didn't know how to finish. "I was more worried about all the gunfire, to be honest."

It was a terrible answer, but it was all she could offer.

Stiles shook his head and told her what had happened with Peter, and more worryingly, with his father. Nora didn't know how much pressure it would take to get Mr. Stilinski to start drinking again, but she knew it would have to be a lot.

"He'll be okay, Stiles." Nora said.

Stiles just sighed.

* * *

 

Stiles could not believe that Nora had gone to the Hale House. Well, he could believe it, it seemed like the kind of thing she'd do.

What he couldn't believe was that he managed to miss all of her calls.

She could have died alone in the woods with Jackson Whittemore because his phone was silenced on his desk.

He watched as Scott ripped apart his room, frantically searching for his phone.

"Call it again." Scott asked.

Stiles sighed.

"It's not here." He said again, glancing at Nora.

She was perched on the end of Scott's bed, moving out of the way as he rifled though is covers again.

"Scott, you probably lost in the woods last night." She said.

"Just get a new one." Stiles said.

With all their problems, he couldn't stomach that they were wasting this much time. Scott and Nora could have died last night, and he was under his bed looking for a cell phone.

"I can't afford a new one." Scott said.

Stiles knew that, but this needed to stop. He looked back at Nora.

"And I can't do this alone." Scott continued. "We have to find Derek."

Nora scoffed.

"He's gone Scott." She said.

Stiles didn't know in what way she meant, but he believed that when Nora gave up on people, that was that.

"Well A, you're not alone." Stiles pointed out. "You have us." He said, his words falling on deaf ears.

Nora just shrugged. He knew what she was saying without her having to say it. "We're not much."

"And B, didn't you say Derek walked into gunfire, he sounds pretty dead." Stiles reminded him.

"So did Scott and he's right here." Nora offered.

"Yeah but he had Deat-"

"Argent's plan was to use him to get to the alpha." Scott cut him off. "They're not gonna kill him."

Stiles couldn't help but think Nora was onto something the other night when she suggested they leave them be.

"So just let them do what they're planning." He sighed, watching as Scott tossed clothes out of his closet, still searching for his dumb phone. "You know, they use Derek to get Peter, problem solved."

"Not of Peter is going after Allison to find Derek!" Scott shouted. "I can't protect her on my own, which means we need to find Derek first. Just help me?"

Nora stood up, grabbing Scott by the shoulders and turning him around. She stared up at him and Scott froze. She put her hands on his shoulders.

"I went after Jackson because I didn't think anyone else would." She said. "Allison has an entire family of professional werewolf killers who want to protect her as much as you do. She is safe."

He looked at Nora, she had never lied to them, and so Stiles never had much reason to figure out when she was. She was keeping something to herself, something about Allison. But it didn't matter how true what she was saying was or what she might be keeping from them. Her words hadn't made a dent in Scott's will. When it came to Allison, there wasn't much they could do in the way of talking sense into him.

It was exhausting.

Scott turned back to his desk and Nora looked helplessly over to Stiles.

"Nora's right, you probably lost your phone while you and Derek were fighting. You know, when he was trying to kill you? Remember that?" Stiles pressed. "After you interrupted him trying to kill Jackson? Are you starting to see a pattern of violent behaviour here?"

"He wasn't going to kill anyone." Scott said, his voice was low.

Nora looked at him, she was the picture of disbelief.

"I'm not letting him die." Scott finished.

Something moved in Nora's eyes, something that looked a lot like anger.

"He won't help you." She said, more forceful this time. "He's happy to help the man who ripped apart his own sister, you think he's going to help you protect Allison just because you save his life? We already tried saving Derek's' life so he'd help us. He doesn't give a shit Scott!"

Stiles gestured at Nora.

"Could you at least think about letting him die?" He asked, almost pleading. "For us?"

Brakes squealed outside, the telltale sound of Melissa's old car, the one Stiles had purposefully smashed into the night before.

Stiles didn't even want to think about that.

"My mom just got home from work." Scott said.

He was quiet for a long moment, listening. Stiles looked back over at Nora. She was still, her arms folded over her chest.

"She okay?" Stiles asked as Scott's face fell.

Scott shook his head.

"What's she doing?" Stiles asked, almost afraid to know.

Melissa never dated, whatever version of himself Peter had shown her, she must have really liked it.

"Crying." Scott said quietly.

Nora sat down on the edge of Scotts' bed, her head in her hands. Scott sat down next to her, she reached out and put her arm on his back.

"Scott, you can't protect everyone." He said.

He didn't want to say that he would get himself killed trying but they knew that. Only to Scott, and maybe Nora to, it was worth it.

What did that make him?

"I have to." Scott said.

He said it like an admission. Stiles ran his hands over his head, waiting for Nora to say something, anything, to make it stick that no, that wasn't Scott's responsibility.

"Having to and wanting to are very different things, Scott." She said to him. "And so is being able to."

Scott didn't say anything, he was just looking down at his feet. Nora looked over to Stiles, her eyes shining. Stiles wanted to say something, to reach out and comfort her somehow, but he couldn't move. What was there to say? They were stuck with this mess,  **whether they wanted it or not.**

Stiles watched Nora climb into the passenger seat, absentmindedly winding strands of hair through her fingers. It was a nervous tick she never did anything to stop, but Stiles was sure it was the only one she had. She clipped on her seatbelt and pressed herself back into the seat, clearly waiting for him to start the jeep.

He didn't.

He had to say something.

He just didn't know what.

She looked over at him, a question written all over her face. Stiles sighed.

"I don't want to keep screwing up, okay?" He spat out.

Nora stared at him, taking a long moment to realize what he was talking about. But Stiles knew she would. He was talking about them.

"What?" She said.

Maybe she was trying to maintain the illusion of not understanding what he meant, but Stiles could hear the leading edge in her voice. "Elaborate" was what she should have said.

He gripped the steering wheel, maybe if he squeezed it hard enough some answers would come out, better things to say than "I know you don't believe me, and you shouldn't, but I'm trying."

"I shouldn't have said what I did in the locker room." Stiles said, fighting to keep his eyes on anything but Nora.

But they kept flicking back to her, trying to gauge a reaction, but like always, it was damn near impossible. Sometimes trying to read Nora was like looking through frosted glass.

" _I never said I was in love with you."_

Just because it was true, didn't mean he should have said it. Stiles had known that the second the words fell out of his dumbass mouth.

But he also knew he was smart to cut himself off when he was about to say "I think I did."

Stiles looked at Nora, one blue eye, one green, both of them shining. He could read that look. "Go back further."

"I shouldn't have kissed you I-" His breath hitched. "Fuck, Nora I shouldn't have done anything and if something happened to you, or me, and we were still-" He forced a shaking breath, trying to hold her gaze. He felt crushed under it. "I don't want to lose you again."

With a jerk on his hand he started the jeep, tearing his eyes away from hers. He wondered if she'd say something, or leave him with silence, to wonder what she thought, to let him torture himself with it.

She should.

"I don't want to lose you either." Nora said. Her voice was even, almost cold. "But I don't want to tiptoe around you either."

He stared at the road, still unable to bring himself to drive. Stiles had no idea what that meant, and he was sure that Nora could tell.

"You hurt me." She said. "That doesn't change because you're sorry."

"I know." Stiles said quickly.

He wasn't sure he wanted her to forgive him. He wasn't sure he deserved it.

Before he could tell her that, she spoke again.

"I mostly just said that to remind myself." Nora said. "I want to forgive you, but it doesn't feel right yet."

Stiles felt something unwind itself from between his ribs, like his bones had been laced with some kind of weight.

Nora didn't forgive him yet, and Stiles was glad she didn't. But if Peter Hale ripped his throat out tomorrow Stiles wouldn't have to die wondering if she ever would. Or he wouldn't die having never said anything to make it clear he knew just how badly he'd fucked up.

"Are you gonna drive or not?" Nora asked him.

Stiles let out a breath of laughter and shifted the gear into drive. Nora had a gift for shattering the moment.

* * *

 

Nora hadn't wanted to join Allison and Lydia on their dress shopping excursion, but Lydia hadn't let her refuse. She had wheedled her about makeup and accessories until Nora relented and let Allison drive her to Macy's. Maybe there might be something she'd buy, and besides, she could go into Barnes & Noble on the way out of the mall.

"What is the matter with you?" Lydia asked Allison as they stepped onto the escalator.

For a moment Nora was worried Lydia had asked her, and Nora wouldn't have been able to answer. All she could have said was "Stiles", and that didn't provide much in the way of an explanation.

"Nothing's wrong, I just- I don't know, I have a lot on my mind." Allison said.

Nora would have asked if she didn't already know the answer. Her family was hiding something, and clearly Allison was struggling with whether or not she wanted to know what.

Or maybe she already knew.

Nora forced that thought from her mind.

"Well you could smile at least." Lydia said. "Ever hear the saying, 'never frown someone could be falling in love with your smile'" She mused and glanced back at Allison. "Smile Allison, I'm buying you a dress."

This time Allison did smile.

"I have to admit as far as apologies go it's more than I expected." She said.

Nora frowned at her feet, thinking back to the morning before, to what Stiles had said.

Was that an apology? Or an acknowledgement?

Was there a difference?

Did she care?

"Excellent." Lydia said, looking back at Nora.

"But not as much as I'm gonna ask." Allison continued, shooting Nora and conspiratorial look.

Nora searched her mind for something she was in on, but came up blank.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lydia asked, looking back to Nora.

Nora shrugged, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach.

"It means you're going to cancel on whatever dumb, roided up jock you said yes to and you're going to go with somebody else." Allison explained as they stepped off of the escalator.

"Who?" Lydia asked, looking appropriately wary.

Nora followed Allison's gaze across the store.

She could have thrown up.

"Him." Allison said, eyeing Stiles as he made a fool of himself in the perfume section.

Nora resisted the urge to glower at the ceiling and tell God, or whatever force of the universe that made this happen, to go fuck itself.

Lydia's face had fallen and Allison crooned.

"Don't frown Lydia, someone could be falling in love with your smile." Allison moved.

To Nora's surprise, Lydia gave her a questioning look.

Nora could have laughed. Lydia had no idea what she was asking.

She just shrugged.

Her feelings for Stiles were complicated, but no matter what they were, it wasn't her place to decide who he took to the formal.

Even if she felt a little sick at the thought of that person being Lydia.

But she was what he wanted.

_Instead of me._

Stiles caught sight of them and waved. Nora wondered if he'd want to know if she was okay with what was about to happen.

Allison disappeared into the store, satisfied with herself. Rage flared in her chest. Allison was doing this as a punishment to Lydia, making Lydia suffer a night with a boy she would never, possibly like.

She jerked her head at Stiles, he strode over glancing between the two of them.

"Hey." He said to her.

Lydia was looking at her, eyes wide.

Nora would rather shoot herself in the foot than do what she was about to do.

Maybe doing what she was about to was shooting herself in the foot.

"You two kids have fun." She spat out, her throat tight with a feeling she couldn't identify. She levelled her eyes with Lydia. "I mean that."

Then she hurried after Allison, catching her by the arm as they disappeared into the aisles of dresses.

"Why did you do that?" She hissed.

Allison frowned.

"What?"

Nora was furious. Maybe she was really angry at Stiles and Lydia, but Allison was standing right in front of her and had done the emotional equivalent of throwing Stiles under a bus.

What if he thought he had a chance?

Nora tried to quell her want for him to be hurt by Lydia, to think he had a shot and lose it. She was a better than that. She might not be ready to forgive him, but she wasn't vindictive.

"It's kind of shitty, don't you think? To make Lydia lead him on?" She asked. "He's my friend, more than either of you, you should have asked me if this was okay."

Allison's eyes darted between Nora and the dresses, then to the floor.

"Is it okay?" Her voice was quiet.

The girl in front of her was different from the one who fired arrows in the woods, or plotted to get revenge on Lydia. She was the one who had folded in on herself in the school, who saw the best in Jackson, who had been there cheering Scott on at his games when Nora wasn't.

Nora was looking at the girl who she would like to call her friend.

But she was seeing this version of Allison less and less.

"Yes." Nora lied. "But you didn't know that."

Allison nodded and Nora gave her a small smile. She turned and walked away, unsure of what to do with herself. Stiles was striding after Lydia as she piled dress after dress into his arms. It would have been funny if it hadn't hurt so much.

But why did it hurt? Because she didn't want him to have a chance with the girl he'd always wanted?

She didn't think that was a thing she should want. Nora wanted to be his friend, to forgive him one day, watching Stiles want other people would be part of that.

She sighed and drifted over to the jackets, wondering if Lydia had a point about her needing more than one.

* * *

 

Nora sat with her eyes closed and facing away from her vanity. Sofia was doing her makeup as Marisa and Isabelle flitted around her bedroom judging her taste in fashion, books and trying to curl each other's hair. Her sisters were worse than a hurricane tearing through her room, but Nora would never ask them to stop. Not until they broke something, and they almost never did.

"Almost finished." Sofia said, her voice easily cutting through the din of the twin's chatter. "Somehow, I've managed to make you look even more beautiful than usual, a testament to my work if you ask me."

Nora smiled and opened her eyes as Sofia stepped away from her, gesturing for her to turn to the mirror. Nora hadn't known what to expect from her step-mother, considering Sofia tended to accent her dark looks with heavily lined eyes and deep red lipstick, but she shouldn't have doubted her. Somehow, probably with a trick of eyeshadow, Sofia had brought some colour out of her pale eyes. It was the only real noticeable difference, but Nora found she looked a lot brighter than she had in months. Half of her hair had been pulled back away from her face into a ponytail, the rest falling around her shoulders in loose curls. Isabelle twirled a strand between her fingers.

"A girl in our grade tried to dye her hair this colour." She said lightly. "It just turned yellow."

Nora supposed that was her way of telling her that her hair was nice colour. She would never disagree, jokes aside, she liked being blonde.

"Can you guys vacate so that I can change?" Nora asked, shooting Marisa a look of disapproval as she continued to rifle through her closet.

Sofia laughed and ushered the twins out of the room. Nora stood up and turned to the garment bag on her bed. She unbuttoned and tossed her flannel aside, having had the foresight to wear a shirt she wouldn't need to pull over her head. Her dress was a simple pale green that hugged her body and fell loose around her legs, falling just above her knees. No sparkles, no frills, just a scoop neck and long sleeves. It was plain, as were her shoes and clutch, plain ivory. But unlike a lot of other girl's dresses, Nora could find places to wear it again, church probably, even to school once people had forgotten what everyone had worn to the formal.

She slipped on her shoes and checked her purse for anything she might be missing. Her overnight bag sat in the corner, stuffed with a boxed set of the X-Men movies, a change of clothes and two bottles of wine. She, Halle and Mei were planning one hell of a sleepover. She picked up her bag and reached for her door handle, stopping when her eyes fell on her jewelry box.

Nora thought of Derek backing her into a wall, of bullets cutting through the air only feet above her head, of Scott bleeding on Deaton's table.

She set down her bag and crossed her room, picking up the one necklace she owned but hardly ever wore. She put it on, double checking that the clasp had closed properly. Nora checked herself in the mirror, eyeing the small silver cross that now hung just below her collar bones.

She hoped she was wrong, but Nora felt like she might need it.

She picked up her bag and made her way downstairs, listening to her sisters bicker with Sofia over the DVD player.

Her father was standing at the bottom of the stairs, holding out a hand for her down the last few steps.

"Mr. Walsh should offer as well." He said.

Nora rolled her eyes.

"You're on a first name basis with his parents, you don't need to call him Mr. Walsh." She scoffed.

Her dad shrugged.

"You look lovely Nora." He said and planted a kiss on her temple. "I'm glad you're going."

She smiled up at her dad, trying to imagine him at her age, getting sent out the door to a school dance, being reminded to offer his hand and hold open doors.

The doorbell rang.

Sox began barking from behind her father's office door. When new people came over, especially when they were dressed nicely, they had learned it was best to keep 100 pounds of excited Irish Wolfhound behind a closed door.

Isabelle and Marisa careened into the foyer grinning madly. Sofia was standing behind them, clutching her camera in her hands. Her father clapped his hands together, shot Sofia a wicked smile, and went to grab the door.

"Mr. Walsh." He said flatly as he opened it.

Nora could have killed him. She lived in a house full of shysters.

"Hi Mr. Morrissey." She heard Ben say, stepping through the small space her father had allowed for him to get through.

She looked at Ben, he was wearing a black tie like she'd said he should and had clearly gotten a haircut. Nora's eyes were drawn to his face now, his long nose, wide grin and hazel eyes that brightened when he saw her. Nora's eyes fell to the bouquet of Lilies in his hand.

He had brought fucking flowers.

Sofia, unable to erase her eager grin from her face, raced forwards to take the bouquet.

"I love Lilies!" She exclaimed and stepped to the side, standing in the archway into the kitchen next to her father.

The twins stood opposite to them, blocking the way into the living room, leaving Nora and Ben trapped in the foyer, staring at each other.

"You look beautiful." He said lightly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "And this is a great entryway." He gestured to the side table. "Is that bowl where you keep your keys?"

"That's enough questions, son." Her father said, lowering his voice so much that Nora was sure Ben could tell.

Nora shot him a furious look.

"It was rhetorical though, does it count?" Ben asked guilelessly.

Isabelle and Marisa collapsed against one another in a fit of laughter, after a short moment Sofia joined them, her hand tight around her husband's arm.

Nora's dad signed and held out his hand for Ben to shake.

"It didn't work, huh?" He asked, his voice it's normal pitch.

"I'm sorry Sir, but no." Ben said, glancing back at Nora looking very relieved her father did not actually want to kill him.

Her dad let go of him, and Ben shook out his hand.

Nora pinched her brow, someone of the "imposing father" act was not for show.

"Call me Pete." Her dad said lightly and gestured to Sofia. "My better half wants to take pictures."

Sofia directed them in front of the stairs and played with the dimmer on the light.

"You look good to." Nora said to Ben.

"Thanks." He said, popping his collar. "This is my confirmation suit."

"Does that mean only suit?" She asked.

Ben nodded, turning to look back at Sofia as she instructed them to put their arms "somewhere" and smile at her. Ben put this arm on her back and Nora did the same, looking brightly over at her step-mother. Sofia took about a million pictures.

"Do a fun one!" Isabelle said.

Nora stared blankly at her sister and then up at Ben.

"Surf hands?" He suggested.

"You mean the Shaka sign?" Nora said.

"Yeah." He said.

Sofia then took a million more pictures of them telling her to "hang loose" with their hands.

"Okay now-" Sofia began.

Pete put a hand on her back.

"I think we should let them leave, yeah?"

Nora caught her sisters vigorously shaking their heads out of the corner of her eye. At no point had Sox stopped barking.

"I think we need more pictures." Marisa said flatly.

"I don't think we do." Nora said, leading Ben towards the door, picking up her overnight bag as she did. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Nora leaned back against her front door as it shut behind them. Ben let out a laugh.

"They're not that bad." He said. "Do I ever get to meet the dog?"

Nora sighed as they strode towards Ben's car, not a Porsche, but the family Corolla. She smiled as he grabbed the door her.

"Yeah." She said. "But she jumps."

Ben shrugged and started the car, glancing over at her, meeting her eyes easily in a way few people often did. Something inside Nora's chest threatened to crack. She looked away from him and turned around to put her bag down in the backseat. Thankful that unlike some people she knew, Ben seemed very dedicated to keeping his eyes on the road while he drove.

* * *

 

Whenever Stiles had thought of the winter formal, there was always a different girl sitting in the passenger seat.

But Nora was gone. She had a date with someone else and so did he.

Stiles was getting his chance with Lydia Martin, and it felt wrong. But Nora's voice was ringing in his head.

" _You two kids have fun."_

He should take her at her word and not by the way she sounded. Nora's voice had been strangled when she'd said it, and what did that mean?

If he took Nora at her word, it meant that he shouldn't be thinking about her.

But he was, and he needed to stop.

He and Lydia pulled into the school parking lot, a blissful end to a drive that had been a lot of him talking to what might as well have been thin air.

Stiles scrambled out of the car and straightened his tie before grabbing Lydia's door. Carefully, she stepped out of the jeep, smoothing out her dress as she did.

"Jackson." She said. "You look handsome."

Stiles whipped around to see Jackson and Allison, neither of them looking thrilled with their company.

"Obviously." Jackson said. "It's Hugo Boss."

Stiles rolled his eyes and did his best to smooth out his jacket.

"I don't care, I don't want compliments." Lydia said to herself. "I will not fall prey to society's desire to turn girls into emotionally insecure neurotics who pull of their dresses at the first flattering remark." She snapped.

Stiles could now see very clearly why Lydia and Nora got along.

"Well I think you look beautiful." He said.

He did and she was. Lydia looked up at him, her gaze softened, showing a bit of the Lydia Stiles was sure existed underneath all the "it girl" antics.

"Really?" She said.

Stiles offered her his arm and with a flick of her hair, Lydia took it.

* * *

 

The school gym felt like nothing like the place where only a few weeks before, a man had been torn apart by Peter Hale. But Nora was doing all she could not to think about that or anything else to do with werewolves. She and Ben found their friends as soon as they walked inside, conveniently their two circles of friends seemed to have merged into one group of people very keen on getting them to hit the dancefloor. Nora took a moment for Mei and Halle, who were very annoyed that she was wasting her moments on them.

"You and Ben should go get punch, I hear it's good." Mei said.

Nora ignored her and complemented her dress instead, a poppy yellow shift that was vibrant on her brown skin. Nora only knew one person who could wear yellow, and Mei wore it well. She turned to Halle who was suddenly looking very sick.

"Do you guys think the other side of the gym looks more fun?" She asked.

Nora suspected she knew what Halle had seen but turned around anyway. It was Stiles and Lydia, arm in arm, striding into the gym. Nora shrugged.

"I gave that my blessing." She said stiffly.

"Why?" Mei gasped.

"Friends don't make other friends not have dates to dances." Nora said.

"Who's the friend in that equation?" Halle asked, looking back to Stiles and Lydia as they parked themselves at a table.

"I don't know." Nora admitted. "Maybe both of them."

Mei gagged, but her eyes were not on Stiles and Lydia. Halle and Nora followed her keen gaze. It was Jess, who Nora supposed was not their friend anymore, heavily making out with Neil up against some bleachers.

A tap on Nora's shoulder broke her gaze away from them. It was Ben, he glanced at Mei and Halle and then gestured a sweeping arm over to where some of his friends were milling around the door.

"Would either one of you lovely ladies be so inclined as to engage with one of my pathetic friends?" He asked dryly.

Mei frowned.

"I'm good." She said.

"Fair." Ben nodded.

Halle eyed Adrian Diaz, who Nora knew Halle had been eyeing for about a month now.

"I'll catch you guys later." She said, striding across the gym.

"She'll embarrass herself if I don't help her." Mei sighed and followed after Halle.

Ben offered her his hand.

"May I have this dance to whatever the hell song this is?" He asked.

Nora took it and let Ben lead her onto the dancefloor, spinning her around as he did.

* * *

 

Stiles watched as Jackson led Allison onto the dancefloor, then a moment later a guy named Ben Stiles barely knew and Nora took to the floor. They looked a hell of a lot happier than Allison did, or Lydia for that matter.

At least someone was having fun.

There hadn't been any sign of Scott, so maybe he'd thought better of jeopardizing his place on the lacrosse team and the security of his teeth inside of his head, by not crossing Coach.

Stiles doubted it though.

He turned back to Nora as she and Ben tried to sort out a dance move that would work with the beat of the bizarre rock song that was playing. Ultimately, it looked like they'd elected to ignore whatever was playing as Ben tried to show Nora how to two-step. Nora was a lot of things, a dancer wasn't one of them. She was smiling though, looking at Ben a lot like how she used to look at him.

That look had been the first thing he'd fallen in love with, her smile brightening her whole face. Stiles had just been too stupid to realize what he'd felt at a more appropriate time, like before he'd broken her heart.

Stiles turned back to Lydia.

"Do you wanna dance?" He asked.

Lydia frowned.

"Pass." She said.

If Jackson and Allison could keep up the appearance of having a good time, than fuck it, so could they.

"You know what, let me try that again." Stiles said, getting to his feet and bracing himself on the back of his chair. "Lydia, get off that cute little ass and dance with me now."

Lydia looked at him like she might look at a particularly interesting microscope slide.

"Interesting tactic, but I'll stick with no." She said.

He didn't know whether it was the fact that she wasn't happy to be there with him, the fact that Nora was happy to be there with someone else, or the stupid act Lydia wouldn't let go, but Stiles was done.

"Lydia get up." He urged. "Okay? You're gonna dance with me." Lydia rolled her head, and Stiles didn't blame her, he was coming across like a real asshole, and maybe he was. "I don't care that you made out with my best friend for some weird power thing, I don't-" He stopped, looking at Lydia, the picture of unimpressed. "Lydia, I've had a crush on you since the third grade and I know that somewhere, inside that cold lifeless exterior there's an actual human soul." Lydia looked up at him, the exasperation was gone.

_Is this working?_

"And I'm also pretty sure that I'm the only one that knows how smart you really are." Stiles continued. "And that once you're done pretending being a nitwit, you'll eventually go off and write some insane mathematical theorem that wins you the Nobel Prize." He said.

For a moment, Lydia actually looked taken aback.

"Field's Medal." She corrected, fighting the smile on her face.

"What?" Stiles said.

Lydia stood up and took his hand.

"Nobel doesn't have a prize for mathematics." She said, her voice was right in his ear. "The Field's Medal is the one I'll be winning."

With that, Lydia led him into the crowd, placing her hands on his shoulders as they tried to move to the beat.

After a brief interruption of the band, punctuated by Coach's yelling, the songs started to slow down. Lydia's chin was on his shoulder, her arms tight around his neck. Stiles wondered if it was so that she didn't have to look at him, so she could pretend he was someone else.

Stiles couldn't do that, he could see Nora, she and Ben finally having found a dance that worked for the slower beat of the song. His arm was wrapped around her waist, their faces close. They were talking, Stiles could see that, smiling a lot. He looked away.

"Since the third grade?" Lydia asked quietly, speaking for the first time since they'd started to dance.

Stiles leaned back to look at her.

"Yeah." He breathed out.

Lydia was frowning, something like guilt swam in her eyes. Stiles' heart fell into his stomach. Lydia turned around just enough to make it clear who she was looking at.

"I'm what happened to you and Nora, aren't I?" She asked.

Stiles could have easily said yes, but it would be wrong.

"No, I am." He sighed.

For a moment, Lydia leaned back into him and Stiles felt reluctant to let her but she stopped, her eyes darting around the gym.

"You okay?" He asked.

"I just need to take a little break." She said.

Stiles let his hands fall from her arms.

"You mean you need to go find Jackson." He said.

Lydia's gaze held to the floor but she began to nod as she looked back up again, her eyes shining. Stiles nodded. Lydia led him off of the dancefloor, keeping her hand in his.

* * *

 

It took some time for Nora to understand how to dance, but Ben had patience and a better sense of rhythm then she did. It helped when the music began to slow down and the only thing really to do was sway. Ben kept his face bent close to hers, the flow of conversation never really stopping. For a moment though, they fell quiet, and Nora took the moment to gaze up at him, the thought striking her that if she ever wanted to kiss Ben, she might need a stepping stool.

It then struck Nora that she would consider kissing him, maybe not tonight, but she would.

She smiled down at her feet, at her heels that by some miracle hadn't started to hurt her feet. But maybe she just hadn't been trying to focus on the things that hurt.

Ben lazily spun her around and pulled her back into him with little regard for the beat of the song.

"What's up?" He asked.

"You, to be honest." Nora said.

Ben smiled.

"Oh, that's a fresh take." He said. "Can you hear me okay? From down there?"

Nora feigned offense that Ben didn't buy for a second. He brushed a bit of hair out of face.

"I'm having a really good time." He said.

"Me too." Nora told him, surprised to find that she wasn't lying in the slightest.

Despite Scott and Allison, Jackson, and Stiles and Lydia on her peripherals, Nora had taken this one night for herself and she would keep it. But a flicker of movement in the corner caught her eye, Jackson stumbling through the propped open doors, looking lost. Nora looked away from him but she had made the brief mistake of meetings Jackson's eyes. But what could he want with her?

Ben stepped back from her, following her gaze to Jackson as he stumbled across the gym towards them. Nora felt pinned, he was more than drunk, he was freaking out. She walked to him, Ben right behind her.

"Where's Scott?" Jackson asked her. "Have you seen him?"

Nora looked around, so did Ben, but Scott was nowhere in sight. Neither, to her surprise or dismay, she wasn't sure, were Stiles and Lydia.

"Hey man, are you okay?" Ben asked Jackson, putting a hand out to steady him.

Jackson batted him away and grabbed Nora's arm.

"I need to talk to you." Jackson said. His voice was raw.

Nora nodded to Ben and tugged Jackson away, her hand going to the pendant around her neck as she did.

"Jackson what is-"

"The Argents are here." He said. "And I- they said they wouldn't hurt him."

Nora stared at Jackson, the music from the band was now screaming in her ears, Jackson's hand on her arm was heavy, so heavy she felt like it might pull her through the floor. She shoved him back, hitting him in the chest, hard.

"You told them?" Her voice cracked and Nora seized Jackson by his jacket collar, forcing him back against the bleachers. It was an odd play on what most of the other kids were doing backed up against the stands. She didn't mean to kiss Jackson, instead Nora might throttle him. "He saved your life, I saved your life." She hissed, fighting to keep her voice low.

"I told Stiles." Jackson forced out, "He went looking for Lydia."

Nora spared a glance back at Ben's confused face.

"Where?"

Jackson just shook his head.

Nora stepped back from him, her heart hammering loud in her chest, forcing everything else away. She strode back over to Ben, feeling the squeeze of her toes in her heels.

"When was the last time you saw Scott or Allison or any of those people?" She asked quickly.

"Scott and Allison dipped out of the back like five minutes ago." Ben said.

Nora glanced back at Jackson, who was standing hopelessly in the corner.

"What's going on?" Ben asked.

Nora could have spun a million lies or half-truths or anything. She looked up at him.

"I don't know, but nothing good." Nora said, fighting the shake in her voice.

Ben put his hand on her shoulder and she followed his eyes back to Jackson, who was heading for the door.

"I hate him." Nora said, hurrying after him, into the freezing nighttime air.

Nora watched Jackson tripping over himself as he headed for the field. She scoffed. That was the boy she could have gotten shot for. She looked back at Ben, he was squinting, peering past the bright lights that lit up the field.

"There's something on the field, Nora." He said.

She looked back, Jackson was running now, and a piece of a terrible puzzle fell into place.

Stiles' jeep was missing from the parking lot.

She kicked off her heels and sprinted after Jackson, Ben was right beside her. They reached the body, Lydia, Nora realized with a painful jolt, moments after Jackson had scooped her up into her arms.

"Stay with me." Jackson was saying to her as they started to run again, Ben speaking into his phone, calling for an ambulance.

Nora could hardly hear him, or Jackson, or feel the bite of asphalt under her feet. Her mind was just running through endless possibilities of what had happened while she was enjoying herself, none of them good.

Peter had killed Lydia and taken Stiles.

Peter had killed them both.

Chris had killed Scott.

Chris had taken Scott.

Or something maybe she hadn't even thought of yet. Nora ran her hands through her hair, looking to her side to find that Ben had disappeared.

A siren wailed down the road.

She looked back at Jackson, knelt on the curb cradling Lydia in his arms as he was swarmed by teachers and other students. Rage swelled in her chest.

"If you don't know first aid back the fuck off!" She shouted, her voice was raw.

The crowd scattered.

Ben reappeared beside her, muscling past a teacher Nora didn't recognize. He handed her shoes to her.

The ambulance careened into the lot.

"I'm gonna get the car." He said. "We can meet them at the hospital."

Nora nodded vaguely in his direction, kneeling down next to Jackson, pressing her fingers to Lydia's neck. She was warm, and her heart was beating, rapidly, but beating.

"She's going to be okay." Nora said.

Jackson just sobbed.

* * *

 

_Stiles grinned against Nora's mouth._

_His mind was racing, maybe locking themselves in someone else's room had been his idea, but now he was just worried about it. What if someone burst in, too drunk to care about breaking the knob? Who was even at this party anyway?_

_His fingers slipped under the hem of her t-shirt. They were in the room after all. Nora leaned away from him and pulled off her shirt. Noise flowed into the room from under the door, voices and footsteps and the frustrated screams of whoever was losing to Greenberg at beer pong. His eyes flicked to the door as Nora leaned back down. This party was supposed to be small. The lacrosse team, their close friends and girlfriends. But there were people missing from that group, and people here that Stiles didn't even think went to their school._

_Stiles looked back up at Nora. She knew most of these people better than he did._

" _Why do you think Lydia didn't come?" He asked._

_He was slurring._

_Too much losing at beer pong._

_Nora was staring at him, her pale eyes wide._

_Someone knocked on the door and Stiles swore he almost jumped out of his skin._

" _Hey, how long are you gonna be? Not that long right Stilinski?"_

_Stiles had no idea who had said that, but fuck them._

" _I am on top of you, pretty much topless, and you're thinking about Lydia fucking Martin?" Nora asked him, her voice cracked._

_Had he been?_

_He couldn't have been._

_Could he?_

_He had asked._

_Nora was gaping at him, her hand hovering around her throat where sometimes she wore a cross. Stiles wondered if she knew she did that._

_It occurred to him that he needed to say something._

" _Do you still have feelings for her?" She asked._

_No. He wanted to say no. Whether or not it was true it didn't matter. He didn't want Lydia to be his girlfriend. He wanted Nora._

" _Do you love me?"_

_Stiles stared at her. Of course he loved her. She had been his best friend for years. But that wasn't what she was asking. How was Stiles supposed to explain the way that he loved her? That she was the only thing that could steady him? That she was one of the only people in the people Stiles didn't think he could live without?_

_Were those things love? He thought so._

_But were they love in the way Nora was asking?_

_Stiles' had never felt like he was "crazy" about Nora. She had never made his stomach turn with nerves. He hadn't met her eyes across a room and thought "yep, her"._

_Was he in love with Nora?_

_How the hell was he supposed to figure that out? Stiles assumed that one morning he'd wake up and just know._

_He opened his mouth to spit something out, a desperate attempt to keep her where she was, to get her to listen, but to what? Stiles didn't know what he wanted to say._

" _Don't leave." Might have been a start,_

_But Nora's weight left him. He watched her leave the room feeling outside of himself._

_He hadn't just done that._

_He hadn't just heard his best friend ask him if he loved her and then said nothing._

_But he had._

_Stiles shot to his feet and promptly fell to the floor, a wave of nausea hitting him on the way down._

_Of course he loved her, had been one of Stiles' first thoughts after Nora had asked._

_So why the fuck hadn't he just said that?_

* * *

 

**Per usual all feedback is so appreciated!**

**IDK about you guys but I love Nora's family, maybe I'm bias but...**


	12. The Sky Above or the Ground Below

**This is late because I am a host unto myself.**

**Chapter Twelve - The Sky Above or the Ground Below**

* * *

Nora stepped out onto the curb, holding her shoes in one hand and her overnight bag in the other. The emergency sign at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital glowed an angry red above her.

She shut the door of Ben's car and turned to him. He was leaning against his car, braced against the doorframe.

He should leave.

Whatever happened next, whatever happened to Scott or Stiles or Lydia, Ben should not be there to see it. It looked like he could tell.

Something wound around her ribs, forcing Nora to fight for her breath. Was this her life now? Forcing people not to see the things she couldn't look away from?

She wanted to ask him to stay, to not have to walk into the hospital alone, to face whatever was inside with nothing but her heels in her hands.

"Thanks for the ride, Ben." Nora said, her voice was low.

He nodded, looking slowly between her and the hospital doors. Ben sighed.

"If you need me, let me know." He said.

Then, with very obvious reluctance, Ben got back into his car.

Nora watched him drive away, glancing back into his rearview mirror a few too many times. Her eyes burned and she turned to stare back up at the sign. Whatever this evening had been, Ben didn't have much of a place in it anymore.

Nora strode towards the doors, unsure how much of a difference it made that she knew the truth about Beacon Hills either.

It didn't take long for Nora to figure out where Lydia was all she had to do was follow the trail of Sheriff's deputies. She stepped out of an elevator and into a waiting room. Her eyes fell on the first hospital room she could see, and Lydia, lying still in the bed. There was nothing to indicate she was alive except for the heart monitor that said she was.

Nora's stomach lurched.

She glanced at Sheriff Stilinski and Jackson, who was backed up against a wall.

"Don't lie to me son!" The Sheriff shouted.

Jackson opened his mouth to say something, but Noah clearly didn't want to hear it. He seized him by his collar and shoved him harder against the wall.

"What happened to her?" He asked.

"This isn't my fault!" Jackson said, glancing at her, something desperate written all over his face.

Nora didn't care.

"She's your girlfriend that's your responsibility!"

Nora wasn't sure about that.

"She's not, okay?" Jackson spat out. "She didn't go to the formal with me."

"Then who'd she go with?" The Sheriff asked.

"Do you really wanna know?" Jackson asked him, some of his infuriating arrogance coming back to him.

"She went with Stiles." Nora said before Jackson could.

Noah turned to her, still keeping his hold on Jackson.

"What?" He asked

"Stiles took her." Jackson told him.

Noah let him go and looked back at Nora.

"Where is he?" He asked her.

"I don't know." Nora said flatly, forcing down the terror she felt as she said those words.

She couldn't say that she knew he didn't do this, that whoever did probably had him, because how would she explain something she couldn't prove?

"You don't know?" Noah pressed, incredulous.

Nora couldn't help but scoff.

"We aren't exactly close anymore Sheriff." She snapped, stepping past him to join Jackson at the window into Lydia's room.

Noah didn't say anything else, and Nora ignored the pang of guilt in her chest. She used to call Stiles' father by his name. She listened as his footsteps disappeared down the hall, the other deputies with him. She turned back to Jackson, her heartbeat roaring in her ears.

Jackson was already looking at her, his eyes glazed over with tears. He was terrified, and Nora would admit that she was to. But she was terrified for Scott, and who had put Chris Argent on his trail?

For a still moment she and Jackson were staring at each other. Thoughts raced through her head, she caught pieces of them, things she could say that might hurt Jackson, that might make him feel a fraction of what she felt.

Nora came up empty.

There was one thing that might put her rage quite eloquently. And before she could think better of it, Nora let her shoes tumble from her right hand and she slapped Jackson across the face, hard. The sound was soap opera worthy, but lost under the bustle of doctors and nurses. Nora's palm stung, and she would have rather punched him, but she wasn't breaking fingers on Jackson Whittemore's hopeless looking face.

Without another glance at him, Nora picked up her shoes and set off to find a bathroom.

* * *

Nora got changed in a cramped stall, nearly screaming every time the fluorescent light above her head flickered. She hated them. Though right now, Nora couldn't think about much she didn't hate.

She hated Lydia for going looking for a boy who as far as she knew, didn't want her.

She hated Allison for either being naive to what her family was doing, or too weak to do anything to stop them.

She hated Jackson for being unable to grasp how he could hurt other people, or for not caring.

She hated Stiles for the same thing.

She hated Scott for relentlessly trying to protect everyone.

And Nora hated herself for how useless her anger was, for how useless she was.

Hatred didn't suit her, rage didn't suit her, and she didn't think either feeling had much of a purpose. But she felt them, she felt them writhing underneath her skin and clouding the thoughts in her head.

_Just leave, you can't do anything._

She yanked her t-shirt on over her head, her carefully done hair.

_Find Jackson and hit him again._

She tugged on her jeans.

_Scott can take care of himself._

She fought to get her socks and sneakers onto her feet.

_Stiles doesn't deserve your worry._

Nora repacked her bag, neatly folding her dress and placing it inside. She stepped out of the stall, facing the mirrors opposite to her.

What would happen if she just went home?

She stared into the mirror, exchanging a cold look with herself. She was powerless, or at least she felt like it.

So?

Didn't everyone feel that way?

Nora picked up her bag and strode back out into the waiting room; Jackson was nowhere to be seen. Standing at Lydia's window was Allison, the only still figure in the bustling hallway. She stood out, but maybe only to Nora.

She watched Allison place her hand on the glass. Nora came up beside her.

"Do you know?" Nora asked quietly.

Allison turned to Nora, a look on her face like she was seeing her for the first time.

"You did?" She asked.

Nora nodded and looked back to Lydia, unable to see her without seeing her lying on the field wet with her own blood.

Footsteps came up behind them; Nora could have guessed who it was before she looked. It was Kate Argent, looking almost smug.

"Do you get it now?" She asked, her eyes on Allison. "This is what they do."

For a moment Nora thought about disagreeing, at making a last ditch effort at changing Allison's mind, hell, saving her soul. She thought better of it.

"And they can't help it." Kate added, looking at Nora now, studying her.

Allison shook her head slightly, turning around to look at her aunt, just as wide eyed as ever.

"All of them?" She asked.

Nora seized the memory of Scott chained to his radiator and screaming at Stiles.

"Yes, Allison." Kate told her. "Even Scott."

Nora felt Allison look at her, she kept her eyes on Kate and her jaw set into a hard line.

"You haven't seen him like I have." Nora said, the words came easily.

It was true, Allison didn't know Scott like she did. Nora knew Scott would never hurt anyone, not on purpose. Allison didn't. Allison was being made to believe otherwise, and Nora was helping.

"Who's the alpha?" Kate asked her.

Now she had to lie.

"Scott and Stiles wouldn't tell me." Nora said, forcing a hard edge into her voice. "They said they wanted to keep me safe."

"Boys." Kate said with an eye roll.

So that was how Kate did it, she was friendly and relatable Aunt Kate, the closest thing to a best friend Allison probably had.

Nora looked back at Lydia, who she did like, but not enough to kill for.

"I don't care who it is." She said. "I want it dead."

Kate considered her for a moment. Her eyes flicked between Allison, who couldn't tear her eyes away from the floor and Nora, who was trying her hardest to look furiously determined.

Kate put a hand on both of their backs and started to lead them towards the doors.

"I think I can help you with that." Kate said.

* * *

Stiles sprinted into the elevator, nearly careening into the two nurses inside as he forced himself through the doors. Both of them pretended not to notice him. It was a nice attempt at perceiving his dignity, but Stiles couldn't care less.

He'd left Lydia bloody on the field.

He'd left Nora with no idea what was happening, and hopefully it had stayed that way.

Stiles shot out of the elevator and right into his father. He caught him by the shoulders as Stiles tried to race for Lydia's room.

"It's a good thing we're in a hospital because I'm gonna kill you." His dad hissed.

Stiles could barely hear him over his heart pounding in his head. He could see Lydia. She was alive. She would be okay. Wouldn't she?

_Fuck_.

"I'm sorry- I lost the keys to my jeep." Stiles choked out through the tightness in his throat. "I had to run all the way here-"

"Stiles!" His dad shouted, cutting him off. "I don't care!"

He wasn't surprised. Something had happened to Lydia, but no one could tell his dad what. Stiles wished he could.

"Is she gonna be okay?" He asked weakly, peering past his father to Lydia's pale face and to Natalie Martin at her bedside.

His father turned and sighed.

"They don't know." He said. "Partially because they don't know what happened. She lost a lot of blood but there's something else going on with her." His dad explained.

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked.

"The doctors say it's like she's having an allergic reaction, her body keeps going into shock." He said.

Stiles looked down at the floor. If Lydia wasn't turning she was dying, her body was fighting the bite.

"Did you see anything?" His dad asked. "Would you have any idea who or what attacked her?"

Stiles looked up at him, the words on the edge of his tongue. He could just say it; he could spill everything and hope that his father believed him. But if he did, what could his dad do? He'd feel like he had to go after Peter Hale and the Argents, and Stiles couldn't put his dad in that kind of danger.

Though he could put himself in it just fine.

"No." he lied. "No, I have no idea."

His father didn't look surprised.

"What about Scott?" He asked.

Had something happened to Scott?

Stiles couldn't think about that right now.

"What do you mean? What about him?"

"Did he see anything?" His dad pressed.

Stiles stared at him, Jackson caught his eye. Jackson, the hopeless bastard who had told Chris Argent about Scott.

"What? Is here not here?" He spat out.

His dad frowned.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, gesturing vaguely towards the doors. "I've been calling him on his cellphone and I've gotten no response. The only one of your friends I've seen is Nora and I have no idea where she went." He said.

Stiles looked over at Jackson, who shrugged at him. There was an angry red mark on his face. Stiles looked back at his dad. His heart fell into his stomach.

"What about Nora? Where'd she go?" He asked, starting to wrestle his phone out of his pocket.

With a sigh his dad started out of the room, but Stiles followed him.

Knowing Nora, she'd gone and done something stupid.

It also looked like she might have hit Jackson.

His dad put his hand on his shoulder, steering him back towards the waiting room.

"Stiles, listen just go wait with your friends." he said. "Alright?"

Stiles wanted to scream at him that he didn't know where any of his friends were, but he couldn't find any words.

At best Nora was at home worrying herself sick.

At best Scott was not impaled by an arrow.

Stiles doubted that either of them were experiencing their best case scenarios.

"Dad tell me, you know it has something to do with Derek." He pushed, picking up a conversation that he had his father had been having for days.

" _Hey dad what's up with the animal attacks?" "Stiles, go to school."_

His father glanced around, eyeing a group of nearby doctors.

"I thought you two said you barely knew him." He said.

Stiles was tempted just to shrug and say "I've been lying to you about everything, all the time, for weeks."

"We might know him a little better than that." He admitted.

Glancing back at the doctors, then to him, his dad grabbed by the back of his neck, like he might a cat.

"You do realize I'm elected to this job? Right?" He said, walking them further down the hallway.

"And that if I help you figure this out you'll be reelected." Stiles offered.

_And I won't feel like I'm sitting around waiting for my friends to get themselves killed or, by some fucking miracle, not do that._

"Am I right?" Stiles continued. "Dad, come on."

He held his father's gaze. They were keeping things from each other, and they both knew it. His father looked back down the hall.

"That girl in here has nothing to do with a six year old arson case." He muttered.

Stiles felt like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on him.

"When did you decide it was definitely arson?" He asked.

His dad gave him a look that very clearly said "keep your stupid voice down" as a nurse strode past.

"Well, we got a key witness." He said. "And no, I'm not telling you who it is. But yeah, we know its arson."

Stiles kept quiet, knowing that if he did, his dad would keep talking. They shared that quality, if no one shut them up, they wouldn't shut up.

"And it was probably organized by a young woman."

"What young woman?" Stiles asked before he could stop himself.

He could only think of one woman he knew who might burn down a house full of innocent people, and she was the same one who'd shot Derek.

"If I knew that she'd be in jail." His dad said.

"Was she young then, or is she young now?" Stiles pressed.

How old was Kate Argent? If she and Allison were close, she couldn't be much older than thirty, could she?

"She's probably in her late twenties." His dad told him, picking up his phone as it rang.

"You don't know her name?" Stiles kept going, his dad had to know more, he always knew more.

"What is this? Twenty questions?" He said. "All we know is that she had a very distinct uh- what do you call it? A pendant." He told him.

"What the hell is a pendant?" Stiles asked.

"Stiles do you go to school?" His father was incredulous, gesturing at his neck. "A pendant, it's a necklace! Now can I answer the phone?" He asked him.

Stiles let his dad walk away and ran his hands over his head. It was Kate Argent, it had to be.

Stiles looked down at his phone, forcing his shaking fingers to dial Nora. Her phone rang once before being sent straight to voicemail. She had hung up on him.

Nora had hung up on him.

Even when they weren't speaking, when Stiles was calling her desperately hoping she'd pick up, she had never hung up on him.

The dread Stiles had been fighting crept up his spine in full force. His phone rang, it was her.

"Hey, where the hell are you?" He said, not caring to hide how desperate he sounded.

"What? Do you care all of a sudden?" She snapped.

_What the fuck?_

"Nora, what the fuck-"

"Stiles, I'm sick of this bullshit with you and Scott? Okay? So if you're going to listen, you can do it now or I'm hanging up on you again." She said.

Stiles stared at the wall in front of him. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Stiles tried to imagine Nora standing in front of him, saying those words. He couldn't. He felt pinned, pinned by her gaze even though she wasn't there, pinned by the countless things he wished he could do or say but couldn't.

What the hell was happening?

"Are you listening?" She spat.

"Yes." Stiles said, his voice was barely a whisper.

"Tell me who the alpha is." Nora said. "Because he's going to pick it over us, over everyone. We need to know who it is and where to find it, no more of this "protecting me" bullshit. I can take care of myself."

Stiles' heart hammered against his ribs.

"Stiles, you're supposed to be smart." Nora continued. "You can't help Scott, but you can help me."

Nora had left the hospital, and Stiles was getting a good idea about with whom.

"It's Peter Hale, and he's going to his house." He told her. "He's trying to find the sociopathic bitch that burned it down."

Nora hung up.

Stiles could have hurled his phone at the wall. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rip his hair right out of his skull. Lydia was dying. Scott was being hunted by Argents. Jackson was in the room next door. Nora was with Kate. And Stiles didn't know what he could do about any of it, but he had to do something and at least he knew where to look.

* * *

Nora slipped her phone back into her pocket, careful to hide the tremor in her hands. She hadn't wanted to call Stiles back, but Kate had asked. Really, Kate had told her to. Now Stiles would probably come to the Hale House, the last place either of them should be. It was too late for Nora to do anything about it now. She was in the back seat of Kate Argent's car, dividing her attention between the murderer who was driving, and the silent girl beside her. Allison was probably thinking about Scott, about how if Nora believed he was a monster, than it had to be true.

They turned off the road and into the woods, Kate stopping the car close to the clearing where the Hale House stood. Nora knew she was around the same place where she'd parked to save Jackson. Maybe this time, she'd actually get shot.

Something cold crept through her veins as she stepped out of the car and Kate popped the truck, revealing enough weaponry for a small army.

Kate could shoot her, and if Nora had her way, Kate would want to.

Kate handed Allison her bow and held out something like a cattle prod to Nora. She took it without a word, listening as Kate explained that using the prod was as simple as flicking the switch on the side. Kate didn't grab anything from the trunk, but Nora didn't ask. She was probably already armed.

Kate led the way into the forest. Nora fell into step beside Allison, trying to read her still face. Kate had said they had come to catch Scott and Derek. Nora doubted it. If Stiles was right, Kate had burned the Hale family alive. Nora wasn't going to let herself think she wouldn't finish the job.

They stopped on the edge of the clearing, watching two shadows move through the dark. Kate leaned close to Allison, and Allison drew back her bow and fired. The larger of the two shadows, probably Derek, fell to the ground. The other one was still, watching them, peering across the clearing at Allison.

_Scott._

It took every bit of will Nora had not to scream his name.

He was frozen as Allison fired another arrow, this time into Derek's leg.

Then she realized Scott wasn't only seeing Allison there with a weapon pointed his way, he was seeing her to.

Allison fired a flash arrow, and Scott fell to the ground.

Derek seized Scott, trying to pull him towards the house.

"Natural talent." Nora heard Kate say to Allison as she stood up, crossing the clearing to the two werewolves.

Allison followed her aunt, wearing the same look of grim determination that Nora had forced on herself earlier. Except Allison's didn't seem faked.

_Fuck._

Derek collapsed on the ground, screaming at Scott to go. Scott didn't move.

"Allison I can explain." He said, his eyes flicking between the two of them.

"Stop." Allison said. "Stop lying."

Nora's fingers hovered over the switch of the cattle prod; she wondered what this would do to a person, to someone who couldn't heal like Scott could.

"For once stop lying." Allison continued as she strode towards him.

Nora wanted to scream. He had been lying to keep her out of this bullshit, to do the one thing for her that her family never would have.

"I was gonna tell you the truth at the formal." Scott said. "I was gonna tell you everything. Everything that I said, everything that I did-"

"was to protect me." Allison cut him off.

"Yes." Scott told her, looking up at Allison with wide eyes.

"I don't believe you." Allison said.

Nora stared at Scott, forcing herself to look at him while he looked back at her, a question all over his face.

He'd know the answer soon, Nora hoped.

"Oh thank god." Kate moaned, walking lazily towards them. "Now shoot him before I have to shoot myself."

There it was.

"You- you said we were just gonna catch them." Allison said, looking at Kate with the same doe eyed looked she'd had when she said that Jackson was better than he seemed.

"We did that." Kate said. "Now we're gonna kill them." She pulled a gun from her side and shot Derek with a shrug. "See? Not that hard."

She walked over to them, standing over Scott.

"Oh no." She said, looking at Allison's shocked face. "I know that look, that's the 'you're gonna have to do it yourself look."

She aimed her gun at Scott.

"Kate? Kate? What are you doing?" Allison asked.

Nora didn't give Kate a chance to answer. She flicked the switch on the cattle prod and drove it underneath Kate's jacket, making sure to make contact with skin. Kate fell to the ground writhing. Nora stepped over her jerking body without a glance, keeping her finger on the switch; she held the baton up to Allison, only inches from her face.

Allison didn't move, her eyes were on her aunt, who had now gone still. She looked at Nora, almost like she was sorry, like she hadn't meant to do any of this.

Nora didn't care.

Kate let out a low moan.

"Nora?" Scott said.

She didn't look at him; she just stood between him and Allison and had no plans on moving.

"You think you love Scott?" Nora snapped, taking a small step towards Allison, tightening her grip on the cattle prod. "Not like I do."

"I-" Allison began but stopped, she just stared at Nora.

The mask of rage Nora had worn earlier was gone, replaced with something real, and something cold had settled into her chest.

"Whatever you're going to say, I don't believe you." Nora said, surprised at the edge in her own voice.

For a moment she wondered if the Allison Nora had met at the beginning of the semester would recognize the Allison she was now. For that girl, archery had probably just been a hobby.

Nora wondered the same thing about herself. If someone had told her three months ago she'd find herself in the woods, threatening a girl's life for Scott, would she have believed them?

Honestly, she probably would have.

A gun clicked behind her.

"I didn't think you had the guts." Kate said.

She almost sounded impressed. Nora knew she would be, if her cattle prod was pointed at someone else. If she wasn't standing between Kate and her prey.

"Kate!" A man's voice cut through the woods.

Nora turned around to see Kate on her feet and pointing a gun at her, barely a few feet away. Chris Argent stepped into the dim light of the clearing.

"I know what you did." He said. "Put the gun down."

There was an authority in his voice that Nora would have obeyed, but Kate was past that.

She looked back at the gun, pointed squarely at her chest. She could die.

Even when she had been locked in the school hiding from the alpha, Nora had believed she could die.

Even when Derek and Peter had been tearing at each other in the hospital, Nora had believed she could die.

Maybe it was because none of it seemed real, werewolves couldn't kill her, and it was hard to believe they existed at all. The thin line between what was real and not real had still been protecting her. Other people had gotten hurt, but not her.

A gun was different. Cold, hard metal met cold, hard reality. Kate Argent could kill her with the squeeze of a finger.

"I did what I was told to do." Kate said, her voice was low, almost petulant, a girl defending her choices to her big brother.

Nora wanted to be sick.

"No one asked you to murder innocent people. There were children in that house, ones who were human!" He said, looking pointedly at Nora. "Look what you're doing now, you're holding a gun at a sixteen year old girl, and a boy, with no proof he's spilt human blood!"

Nora was fifteen. She wouldn't be sixteen until May. She might not ever be sixteen.

"We go by the code." Chris said, before saying something in French.

"We hunt those who hunt us." Allison whispered.

Nora realized she was still holding the cattle prod up to Allison's face. She looked back to Kate, holding her gaze. Nora wasn't going to move. She wasn't going to lower her arm. She wasn't going to step out of the way of Scott.

"Put the gun down." Chris said again, raising his own gun at his sister.

A shot rang out. A bullet zipped through the small space between Nora and Kate and burrowed into a tree.

"Before I put you down." Chris finished.

Kate lowered her weapon.

Nora let out a shaking breath.

The front door of the Hale House creaked open.

"Allison, Nora get back." Chris said.

Nora didn't need to be asked twice.

"What is it?" Allison asked.

"It's the fucking Pope, Allison." Nora hissed.

"It's the Alpha." Scott said.

Nora watched his fingers curl into claws, and Allison drew her bow.

A shadow whipped out of the house, Peter Hale, moving so fast he was a blur. Chris Argent was thrown to the ground. Allison was next, her bow falling. She watched as Scott's feet were pulled out from under him. Nora tried to brace herself. Painfully, he seized her by the ankle and threw her down like a ragdoll. The air was forced out of Nora's lungs as she hit the ground. Her whole body ached, but she wasn't dead.

The cattle prod had flung from her head as she fell. Nora scrambled for it, black dots clouding her vision as she did. She could hear Kate taunting Peter.

She wondered if he'd kill her quickly, or make it slow.

Her eyes flicked to Derek, still limp on the ground. Could that bullet really have killed him? It didn't seem likely. But if he wanted to play dead and pretend none of this was happening Nora wasn't sure she could blame him.

Gunshots went off, each of them felt like it was splitting Nora's head in two.

If she had a concussion, she was going to be pissed.

Kate let out a scream. Nora rolled over in time to watch Peter drag her inside the house.

"No!" Allison screamed, forcing herself to her feet and racing after them.

It was that sort of brazen stupidity that Nora knew she'd be a hypocrite for chastising Allison for. But she wasn't going in after her.

Nora crawled to Scott's side.

"Allison." He said, turning to the house.

Nora grabbed Scott's shoulder, trying to keep him where he was.

"Scott forget her." She said, her head pounding with every move. "She would have shot you, Scott."

Scott stood up.

"I can't let him kill her." He said and raced up the broken stairs into the house.

Nora stayed on the ground, her jeans wet with mud and leaves. Her head spun.

"I can't let her kill you." Nora said even though she knew Scott wasn't there to hear her. It was more like a promise to herself, to anything that was listening, to whatever was beyond the stars over her head or under the ground.

* * *

Stiles had always wanted to drive a car like Jackson's. But careening towards the Hale House in the dead of night, armed with nothing but a few Molotov cocktails, with all of his friends' lives in danger, was not part of the fantasy.

"This isn't exactly an all-terrain vehicle." Jackson protested as Stiles accelerated even more down the dirt roads of the preserve.

He wondered if Jackson had given Nora this much shit.

"Yeah? Did you pay for it?" Stiles asked him.'

"No." Jackson sighed.

Stiles had expected as much. Jackson didn't seem like he had ever paid for anything.

"Then shut up." Stiles snapped.

To his surprise, Jackson did, at least for a moment.

"Do you think they're dead?" He asked flatly.

Stiles debated veering the car into a tree, but that would probably kill him as well as Jackson. And if there was one person Stiles didn't want to die beside, it was Jackson fucking Whittemore.

Stiles didn't say anything, he just kept driving. He couldn't explain to Jackson that he hadn't stopped imagining what might have happened at the Hale House while they were googling how to make a Molotov cocktail. Everyone was dead. No one was dead. Peter had convinced Scott to kill the Argents. Kate had convinced Allison to kill Scott.

But no matter what he imagined, Stiles could figure out how Nora would fit. She wasn't a hunter or a werewolf, and neither was he. So what place did they have in any of this? Other than not wanting to see his best friend impaled by an arrow, Stiles didn't care what happened. Maybe he should want to save everyone.

But he'd settle for Nora and Scott.

They pulled into the clearing; Stiles hurled himself out of the car before it had really stopped. He threw one of the beakers towards the Alpha as hard as he could.

Peter caught it.

For a moment, Stiles was sure the world stood still.

Nora was on her hands and knees next to Allison's dad, squinting at him, almost like she couldn't believe he was there.

Peter roared. Stiles reeled back.

"Allison!" Scott screamed, diving for her bow on the ground.

In a flurry of movement, Allison notched an arrow like she'd done it a million times before, and fired. The beaker exploded, and flames crawled up Peter's arm. He screamed, in pain or fury, Stiles couldn't tell. Jackson threw the other beaker, and it hit Peter square in the chest.

Peter moved towards Allison, Scott forced him back.

Stiles looked back at Nora, who was shielding her eyes from the fire.

Peter shrunk, shifting back into his human self. He fell to his knees.

Stiles choked at the smell of burning flesh, gagging as Peter collapsed backwards. Without another glance at him, Stiles sprinted across the clearing to Nora.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

Nora glanced at him, her eyes almost colourless in the dark. She looked back at Allison.

"If I ever trust her, do me a favour and shoot me." She said, leaning back against him.

Stiles looked over at Allison. She was kneeling in front of Scott, and they were kissing. Nora gestured weakly towards them.

"Like, it's really not the time." She muttered.

Stiles scoffed, watching Scott and Allison. Nora looked away from them. She shot to her feet and almost toppled over. Stiles stood up and looped one of his arms around her. But Nora wasn't paying any attention to him. Her eyes were on Peter, and the figure stalking towards him.

It was Derek.

Derek stood over Peter, somehow still clinging to life. Scott ran towards them.

"Wait!" He shouted. "You said the cure comes from the one who bit you! Derek, if you do this, I'm dead. Her father, her family- what am I supposed to do?"

Stiles' heart crawled up into his throat and Nora, Nora actually started laughing, low and pained. But she was laughing.

"There was never a cure was there?" She said, her voice weak and wavering, still carried across the clearing. "We should have let you die."

Derek answered her by raising a clawed hand and bringing it down across Peter's throat. Scott was still screaming at him not to do it. Nora slumped against him, kicking her toes into the dirt. Derek turned to face them, his eyes glowing red.

"I'm the alpha now." He said.

Stiles watched numbly as Derek turned and strode into the woods, Scott staring desperately at his back.

* * *

Nora crept into her room close to dawn. After she'd piled into the Porsche with Stiles, Jackson and Scott. After she'd let a nurse make sure wasn't going to have a hematoma. After she'd thrown up in the hospital bathroom until there was nothing left in her stomach but bile.

She could still smell Peter's burning flesh.

She could still see Kate's gun pointed at her heart.

Nora wrestled off her jacket and jeans and collapsed onto her bed. Peter Hale was dead, but now it felt like they had a million more problems that Nora couldn't quite name.

Derek was an alpha. A few weeks ago, Nora didn't think she would have cared. She would have assumed he would go be lonely in his decrepit house in the woods, just with red eyes. Now, whatever version of him, a friendlier one, they'd known was gone.

Lydia was clinging to life, not turning or dying. Nora didn't want to know if there was another option or what it was.

Allison was grieving now. Whoever Kate had really been, she'd been someone else to Allison. Nora wondered what would happen to her; she supposed she'd have to find out.

Stiles was Stiles. He was still a tangled mess of feelings and memories and the want for things to be right again, now more than ever. She would sort it out. The breakup was a dull ache now, a painful memory. But Nora could never look at him the way she had before, not again. Not being in love with him wasn't enough; she had to trust him again. She did with some things. She'd trusted him to understand that phone call.

Nora ran her fingers as best as she could through her tangled hair.

Maybe they're whole relationship had been a mistake. Maybe it was never meant to be. But it felt like it had, it had felt right. It had felt like everything Nora could ever want.

But it hadn't been.

She reached for the water bottle that sat on her bedside table, knocking off an envelope as she did. Nora bent down and picked it up. She knew that Isabelle like to bring in the mail and put it where it was supposed to be. Bullshit in the garbage, bills in their father's office, cards in the living room, letters to whom they were addressed. But Nora never got mail. The handwriting on the envelope was familiar, a lot like her Aunt Lily's. The return address was in Encinitas, but it wasn't her Aunt's home.

Nora put her head in her hands, and let the envelope flutter back to the floor.

Her mother had sent her a letter.

* * *

**VERY IMPORTANT NOTE HERE PLEASE READ**

**Per usual, feedback is appreciated, however, i have some unfortunate news. I think I have hinted at this a bit but I spend my summers in the woods with no internet connection so there's going to be a bit of a wait before I get to season 2. Because I am moving halfway across my country (Canada) to move to university at the end of August, and want some time to adjust, I'm thinking that mid to late September is the current return date for this story. I'm not pleased, I'd write all summer if I could, but I can't so… I hope you'll all be able to forgive me by the time I do get to season two because I have some interesting stuff in mind. I know people are wanting to have an idea of who Nora will end up with romantically and I'm telling you guys right now, I don't think season two is going to be the time when we find that out. (I don't think, haven't written it yet so..) Nora is going to have some other priorities (no, not just her mother). Anyway, I'm very excited to come back to this story and I think that taking this break might actually be good for it. I want to thank everyone for all of the support and I'm so happy that people have been enjoying Nora and her story, it's not over yet :)**

**Also there will be other POVs in the next part, I'm pretty sure so stay tuned for that ;)**


	13. Dive In

**Guess whose back? It's me! Also I haven't really written since June so keep that in mind IDK. Also I can tell already, we're gonna have a rough time this season!**

**Chapter Thirteen - Dive In**

* * *

_**Nora,** _

_**I tried writing this letter almost two dozen times, but it was never good enough, and how could it be? I can't put into words how sorry I am, and words can't make up for the absolute failure I've been for you. Every day I regret the day your father left, not saying more, saying anything, to stop him.** _

_**But I hope to God he doesn't regret that day. Lord knows he shouldn't.** _

_**You barely understood.** _

_**Or maybe you did.** _

_**Either way, you're not a toddler anymore, are you? I wonder all the time what you would be like to me if I knew you like I should, if I'd been anything to you at all other than what I am. I'm a drug addict, and I always will be. But I've been sober for two years, almost to the day, maybe to the day by the time you get this.** _

_**What changed?** _

_**Why couldn't I clean up sixteen years ago? Or ten? Or five?** _

_**I don't fucking know. I wish I did. I wish I could explain why I'm like this, but after two years of rehab and therapy I still can't, so I doubt I ever will.** _

_**In truth, I wish I could go back in time and slap myself in the face. When I found out I was pregnant I promised myself I'd get sober and stay that way. I was going to be a mother, and a better one than I had. I wish I could go back and hold myself to that promise.** _

_**But enough about wishing. Wishing is bullshit, and I should rewrite this letter and write it out. But nothing I could say could ever be good enough; I know that, I'm glad. Imagine if a piece of paper with some ink on it could erase over a decade of fuck ups. No one would ever learn their lesson, would they?** _

_**No.** _

_**I didn't write this so you would feel sorry for me. I didn't even write this so you would write me back. I hope you do, but my all means, don't. I wrote this because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't try.** _

_**Nora, I don't want you to forgive me.** _

_**I want you to put my through whatever amount of hell you see fit.** _

_**Write me back or don't. Fill an envelope with wasps and this letter torn into little pieces. Make a list of every insult you've ever muttered when you've thought of me. Or do none of it.** _

_**I just want you to know that I do think about you. I do care. I do want to know you, and that I'm in a decent place to try.** _

_**With all the love I could hope to give,** _

_**Jane** _

* * *

Nora Morrissey stood in front of Alan Deaton's door, a scarf wrapped high around her neck and her hands clenched into fists inside her jacket pockets. Deaton wasn't home; Nora had made sure of it. Well, she'd checked the clinic's hours online. But if the vet was home, things between them were about to get awkward.

With a quick glance around the quiet street Nora strode around the side of Deaton's home. She eyed the windows of his neighbour, glad they were dark. She didn't have an excuse, anything to offer a well-meaning friend of Deaton. All Nora had was a pounding headache, no desire to go to school, and the insatiable urge to do something, anything, to feel less useless.

Not useless.

Helpless.

Nora climbed the back porch, knowing that she was in a much better mood breaking into a home than she ever would be stomaching the gossip about Friday night's formal. Who had hooked up with whom? Who had broken up? What really happened to Lydia Martin?

It was strange, having the answer to the biggest question in town and knowing that no one actually wanted to hear it.

Nora's eyes fell on the heavy pot next to her, the perfect place to put a key that never saw much use. She crouched and shoved it aside, thanking God that most people kept the same habits. She picked up the key and twisted open the lock with a satisfying click. Nora let the door swing open and stared into the empty home. Maybe it was cozy with the lights on, but now it was nothing but shadows. She braced herself in the doorway, knowing that if Deaton had been sitting on his faded red sofa, she would by nothing but a silhouette.

Nora took a breath and almost stepped back.

But where would she go?

She had spent the whole weekend thinking, she couldn't stop. There wasn't much left in Beacon Hills that Nora didn't understand, but Deaton? Dr. Alan Deaton remained a mystery, one she didn't like. At every turn she and Scott and Stiles had been lost. How lucky they all were to still be alive wasn't lost on Nora. But Deaton always came across as calm, calm enough to turn away Peter Hale, special enough that when an alpha werewolf had hurled a chair at his head it hadn't left a mark.

Scott didn't seem overly concerned with the nature of his boss, and Nora didn't blame him, Scott had enough to worry about it. So did she, but she had space for this. She always had space for answers, no matter how she got them.

Nora stepped inside, wincing as the floors creaked under her feet. But the home was as empty as it looked. She looked around. Deaton's house was sparse but homey. There were books everywhere, most of them academic. Folders were spread out on the coffee and dining table, a sure sign of work brought home. It didn't look like anyone but Deaton lived here, not even a pet.

_What kind of vet doesn't have a pet?_

Nora shook the thought away as she continued to creep through Deaton's home. She wasn't here checking up on the health of his hypothetical cat. But if she were evidence of knowledge of the supernatural, where would she be?

Nora frowned as she gazed around. This sort of thing, pseudo detective work, was more in Stiles' wheelhouse. He had a frustrating knack for not knowing what to look for and finding it anyway.

For example, Stiles hadn't been looking for anything in her, and she'd wanted him anyway.

Nora stepped into the entryway, letting her fingers feel along the wall beneath the stairs. There was a divot, something she wouldn't have noticed in the dark had she not been feeling for it.

Deaton's stairs had a cupboard underneath.

She pried it open, careful not to scratch the paint. It wasn't much use; he'd be able to tell it had been opened if he were looking. Nora just had to hope Deaton didn't go looking.

Nora stared into the cupboard, finding that it wasn't a cupboard at all, but a staircase. Not many homes in California had basements, though maybe this far inland, that changed.

But why paint over the door?

Nora had come prepared to find out, and fished a headlight of her backpack. Carefully, Nora began to descend to the stairs, ignoring how badly she wanted to search the dark for a pair of red eyes or the muzzle of a gun.

She found nothing but a light switch at the base of the stairs. She flicked it on; finding herself in what was less of a basement and more of a cellar. The air was thick, and everything was coated in a fine layer of dust. Deaton had put this room to rest a long time ago. The books that lined the stairs and the walls to her left and right sat untouched. The far wall, a mosaic of jars and boxes, seemed to stare back at her.

Nora let her face break into a grin.

This was the kind of weird shit she'd been looking for.

She didn't dare cross the room to open a box or uncap a jar, not knowing what might be inside. But Nora knew what books were, and she knew that in Harry Potter it was a stupid idea to open any without knowing their contents. But this was Beacon Hills, and Nora had let continue to believe that paper was paper no matter what was written on it.

The first book she grabbed was a thin volume, bound in what felt like leather. Its pages were nothing but tight Latin script. Nora placed it back on the shelf. Her heart hammered in her chest.

Could it be this simple? Her stupid hunch, bordering on paranoia, leading her to a cellar full of ominous looking books?

A few months ago, Nora might have taken her good luck for what it was; now it made her stomach turn. She knew she was constantly waiting for the ball to drop, for her luck to run out. But what was she supposed to do? Go back to living like her town wasn't full of hunters and monsters? Maybe she could, but she doubted she'd be able to sleep at night, out of fear or even guilt, if she did.

Nora turned her eyes to a worn journal in a Ziploc bag, the only thing in the room that showed any sign of being cared for. She picked it up and opened the bag, pulling out the journal. A piece of paper slipped out from between the pages, Nora bent and picked it up.

_**I thought you might like the original, considering my publisher elected to change the title, give me a pseudonym and market it as a fiction. I want to thank you for all the help you gave me with writing this book, especially considering your loss. Our world isn't all bad Alan, and if you ever miss it, just call.** _

_**\- Catarina Beaufort** _

Nora slipped the note back into the journal and set down Catarina's book. She examined the other books more closely. Some were just notebooks, filled with handwriting she was sure was Deaton's. Others were written pages photocopied and bound together. Few were published, but instead had been shared.

" _Our world"_

Nora resisted the urge to scoff. A world of hunters and werewolves and Deaton, who was neither but wrapped up in it all anyway.

What did that make Nora?

She grabbed Catarina's journal and put it back inside of its Ziploc bag. But instead of placing it back on its shelf, Nora slid it into her backpack. Resisting the urge to look back, Nora flicked off the light and raced up the stairs, closing the half-hidden door behind her. She had questions for Deaton, but it seemed like Catarina Beaufort might be the one to answer them.

* * *

Stiles clutched Lydia's bloody hospital gown in his hand. He felt like this was a nightmare he'd gotten from too long sleeping in a hospital waiting room. Lydia hadn't just disappeared into the night, that was insane.

He climbed into the jeep, handing Scott the gown.

"This is the one she was just wearing?" He asked.

Stiles nodded, doing his best not to meet Scott's eyes. If he did, Stiles was sure he'd start to scream.

This was supposed to be over.

All of this, werewolves and hunters and whatever the hell else, was supposed to end with Peter Hale.

But Stiles felt like it was just the beginning.

"I'm not going to let anyone hurt her." Scott tried to assure. "Not again."

Stiles didn't want to tell him that there wasn't anything they could have done to stop Lydia from getting hurt in the first place, not really. He wasn't going to say that no matter what they did, everyone seemed to still get hurt.

"Just shove the thing in your face and let's find her." Stiles said, his voice low.

He started the jeep, turning on the headlights just as Allison stepped into them. Nora was right behind her, squinting towards the windshield. Stiles knew that Nora had gotten Allison to drive her to the hospital; he didn't think they'd get here so quickly.

Allison strode to Scott's window, leaning into the jeep.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asked her. "Someone's going to see us."

Stiles watched Nora come up beside his window, and he rolled it down. But Nora didn't say anything, she just watched Allison, her eyes narrow. Stiles remembered what Nora had said to him the other night at the Hale House. It felt like forever ago.

" _If I ever trust her, do me a favour and shoot me."_

"I don't care." Allison said. "She is my best friend, and we need to find her before they do."

"What the fuck does she think we're trying to do?" Nora hissed, just loud enough for him to hear.

Stiles shrugged.

"I can find her before the cops can." Scott said.

"How about before my father does?" Allison asked.

Stiles' heart leapt into his throat.

"He knows?"

"Yeah." Allison told him. "I just saw him and three other guys leave my house in two SUVs."

"Search party." Scott sighed.

"It's more like a hunting party." Allison said.

Scott popped open his door.

"Get in." He said.

Nora scoffed, loudly, and for a moment, Stiles swore he could have curled up and died. Scott and Allison turned to look at her but Nora didn't say anything. Allison dropped her eyes from Nora's and climbed into the backseat. Nora walked around the front of the car and followed her in.

Stiles clenched the steering wheel as they veered out of the parking lot. He wasn't happy with Allison, but he also had no idea what was going on in her head or her home. Nora, uncharacteristically, didn't seem to care. But Stiles knew far too well that once Nora was done, she was done, and it would take a lot to change her mind.

Still, the absurd silence in the jeep, and Scott having his head stuck out the window, was a lot to bear.

"But if she's turning would they actually kill her?" Stiles asked, steering his mind away from how hard it was to get back on Nora's good side, to whether or not Lydia was going to die.

He missed having nice things to think about.

"I don't know!" Allison said. "They won't tell me anything, okay? All they say is 'We'll talk after Kate's funeral, when the others get here.'"

"What others?" Stiles pressed, watching Nora roll her eyes in the rearview mirror.

It was impossible not to notice how Allison was sat as far to one side of the jeep as she could.

"I don't know, they won't tell me that either." Allison said quickly, her frustration obvious.

Nora looked at her, her expression cool.

"Do you think you could infer from context that other hunters are coming?" She asked lightly.

"Okay, well her family's got some serious communication issues to work on." Stiles said, but trying to cut the tension between Allison and Nora was looking pretty hopeless. "Scott are we going the right way?" He shouted.

"Take the next right!" Scott shouted back.

Stiles sighed as he jerked on the steering wheel, every turn taking them closer and closer to the Hale House. He wondered if the area still stank of burnt flesh. Stiles tried not to gag at the memory and glanced back at Nora to force it away.

She had started wearing her necklace with the cross pendant again. She hadn't done that regularly in years. Stiles wondered what she'd say if he asked her about it. He didn't know, but probably something along the lines of, "Everything is shit, and you're asking me about my fucking necklace?"

He dragged his eyes back to the road and the woods on either side of it. He had bigger problems than Nora.

But he wanted her to talk to him.

Nora had been radio silent since the Hale House. Stiles knew that for a fact, he'd asked Scott, he'd even asked Halle and Mei, who in turn had bombarded him with questions about what it mattered to him. Which was annoying, because of course it mattered to him. Furiously, he'd texted Halle. "Because I'm her friend to." Halle had replied, "Are you sure?"

Knowing Halle, she was trying to fuck with him because she still hadn't, and would probably never, forgive him.

Knowing Nora, maybe they weren't friends again yet.

What was he supposed to do? Come right out and ask?

Scott's voice jolted him from his thoughts as he kept screaming directions. But it was becoming obvious where they were headed; they were going back to the Hale House.

Stiles hoped the only thing they found was Lydia.

* * *

The Hale House hadn't changed. Nora wasn't sure why she thought it might, maybe because she felt like something should. Something should shift as much as it felt like she had. But the abandoned house was still just that, no matter what had happened inside of it.

"She came here?" Stiles asked, turning around to look at them. "You're sure?"

"This is where the scent leads." Scott said.

Somehow, Nora didn't find that reassuring. She knew a few things about hunting; one was that a smart hunter could do more than track their prey and shoot it. They could trick it.

Stiles looked incredulous, but carried on walking towards the house anyway. Nora kept going after him, no matter how much she didn't want to. She felt like at any moment, Kate Argent could step out of the shadows, her gun raised, and Chris Argent wouldn't be there to stop her.

Nora tried to force the thought away.

_The bitch is dead._

Stiles stopped again.

"Alright, but has Lydia ever been here?" He asked.

"Not with me." Allison said.

Stiles looked over at her. Nora frowned.

"You think I hang out here?" She scoffed.

Stiles sighed and kept walking. Nora could hear Scott and Allison speaking to each other, their voices low and urgent. She resisted the urge to turn around and smack them both. Instead Nora took a few quick steps to catch up to Stiles.

"They're whispering." She said.

"I know." Stiles muttered, walking around the clearing.

He dropped to a crouch, Nora followed, peering down at the ground.

"Hey, look at this." He said, running his fingers along a thin and taut length of cord. "You see this?"

Allison knelt on the ground next to them.

"I think it's a tripwire." Stiles said.

And before Nora could tell him not to, Stiles tugged on the cord.

"Stiles?" Scott said from behind them.

Nora tried not to smile as they turned around.

"Yeah buddy-" Stiles began, "oh."

Scott was dangling in the air by his right leg, his jacket bunching up around his head. It would have been funny if Nora didn't know what the wire was for.

"Next time you see a tripwire, don't trip it." Scott said.

"Noted." Stiles said as they walked towards him, Nora's eyes following the wire up into the trees.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Scott said, holding his hands out for them to stop. "Someone's coming, hide."

Nora stared at Scott, suspended helplessly from a tree. She didn't particularly want to go anywhere.

"Go!" Scott urged.

Stiles' hand on her shoulder turned her around, and they hurried past the tree line, dropping to the ground as Chris Argent and some other men stepped out of the woods. Nora's eyes flicked to Allison, and she was glad to find her looking sheepish.

Maybe she was being too hard on her.

But someone had to be.

Nora watched, her fists curled into the dirt, as Chris crouched in front of Scott. She could hear him speaking but not the words, but she doubted she needed to. Nora could see the look on Scott's face.

She watched Chris draw a line with his hand cross Scott's stomach. Her heart crawled into her throat.

As quickly as the hunters came they left, disappearing back into the woods. She, Stiles and Allison raced back to Scott. Stiles nearly tripping over what seemed like his own feet.

"Are you okay?" Allison asked

"Just another life threatening conversation with your dad." Scott said, his voice was strained either by Chris Argent or being suspended upside down, Nora couldn't tell which.

Allison jogged across the clearing, eyeing the spot where the cord was tethered.

"Stiles, help me with this." Allison said.

Nora didn't move from Scott's side, unsurprised when he was able to cut himself down.

"Thanks." He said. "But I think I got it."

Nora turned back towards the house, the others following her gaze.

_Could Lydia really be here?_

She doubted it. She doubted too that Lydia was turning into a werewolf. She couldn't say why, having only Scott's experience to go off of. All Nora had was her gut, and it was telling her that things were about to get a lot more complicated.

* * *

Nora sat stiffly at her kitchen island, peering into her oatmeal. She tried to ignore the sounds of the morning, her father humming into his cup of coffee, Sofia scrutinizing the four newspapers she was subscribed to, her sister's voices filling the kitchen with every detail of their latest obsessions.

It was too normal.

Nora thought, for what felt like the millionth time, that the world had changed, but no one else had noticed.

On top of it all, Marisa's subject of interest this morning, was how Kate Argent's grave had been dug up.

"I mean, some of her organs are just gone." She said, shoveling cereal into her mouth. "What takes organs?"

Nora spun around on her stool, eyeing her sister coolly.

"Don't you mean who?"

Marisa shook her vigorously head. Isabelle put her face in her hands.

"Please don't." She sighed.

Nora's father let out a low laugh.

"What's up, Marisa?"

Marisa's face lit up. She was always bright, only ever a second away from a smile, but there was a certain fervor to her whenever she had an idea.

Nora tried not to frown.

Marisa used to adore Stiles.

"I don't think there was ever a mountain lion." She said proudly. "I mean think about it-"

Marisa went on, but Nora couldn't hear her over the rush of blood in her ears. How many other people were having the same conversation? Nora didn't care. What she did care about was her little sister, the one who had a bad habit of getting too tangled up in her thoughts and trying to act on them anyway. For a moment, Nora could imagine her sneaking out with nothing but a flashlight and her favourite wool sweater, setting off to find the monster lurking in Beacon Hills.

"How did a mountain lion rip the door off of a school bus? How did-"

"Because Kate Argent staged it." Nora cut in; her voice was cold, colder than she wanted it to be.

Marisa scoffed.

"That doesn't make any sense!" Marisa exclaimed. "I get that she was cleaning up after herself, getting rid of her accomplices in the Hale Fire, but then what killed her? No one knows." She leaned back in her chair, her cereal forgotten. "Think about it."

Nora stared blankly at her younger sister, guilt already flaring in her chest.

"Isabelle, what's on your mind this morning?" She said sharply, pointedly turning her gaze to her other sister, but not in time to miss Marisa's face fall.

She was always the one to humour Marisa. Always.

But not anymore.

"Why did your Aunt send you a letter?" Isabelle asked.

Nora was glad Isabelle was paying more attention to her breakfast than her, because Nora didn't need to see herself to know how blindsided she looked.

The fucking letter.

Could she catch goddamn break this morning or not?

"Lily sent you a letter?" Her dad asked.

Nora didn't turn around to look at him, she couldn't, she'd give herself away. Instead she nodded, trying to look anywhere but her family.

Sofia's pointed gaze drifted up from her newspaper and fell on Nora, her dark eyes unreadable. Nora had always thought that her step-mother's delicately pointed looks were reminiscent of a bird. She always forgot that that bird was shrike. Nora knew she was good enough to get away with a lot, but not everything was going to slip by. Sofia had plenty of questions about what had happened after the formal, and Nora had fielded them all away. She just wasn't sure how convincing she'd managed to be.

And now this. The letter. Now Nora had this other private thing she knew her parents wouldn't be happy about. Nora didn't even know how she felt about it. But she didn't want her father to know.

"Yeah?" Nora said, forcing herself to sound bored. "So?"

Sofia's eyes fell back to her newspaper, but they were no longer moving with the words. Her father seemed satisfied, and went back to humming to himself. Isabelle returned to her cereal. Marisa still hadn't touched hers again.

Wordlessly, Nora dumped her uneaten oatmeal into the garbage, and left the kitchen.

* * *

Nora stood at her locker, feeling frozen in front of it, her morning playing on a loop. Maybe she was exaggerating how upset Marisa had looked, raising her sister's disappointment to how bad Nora felt about shutting her down.

But maybe she wasn't.

She clutched her locker door, searching for purchase in the cold metal. It didn't help that Catarina's book was still in her backpack, an added weight she wasn't used to. Halle and Mei were talking around her, their lockers situated on her either side.

Nora's head snapped up at Lydia's name. She tried to force Marisa's face out of her head.

"I heard Coach is gonna give an A to whoever finds her if they're in his class, how fucked is that?" Mei asked, her voice sharp with disgust.

Mei almost never swore, so when she did, it was an excellent measure of how much something was pissing her off.

"As long as they find her, I don't care how." Nora said, doing nothing to mask the exhaustion in her voice. She wished she had, because Halle was looking at her with wide concerned eyes.

Nora didn't have the patience for concern. There was nothing she could do about the things stealing away her hours of sleep, or her good moods in general. So she changed the subject.

"Should I go out with Ben again?"

"Yes." "Do you want to?" Mei and Halle said simultaneously.

"I don't know." Nora said, looking back into her locker, doing anything to avoid their eyes.

Because she was lying. Nora wanted to. She liked him, she wasn't sure how much yet, or exactly how. But she wanted the chance, the time, to find out.

But Nora wasn't sure she had it.

Her eyes burned.

"Stiles can't hold you back anymore." Halle said.

Nora could have screamed.

Because it wasn't Stiles anymore, not really, it was everything else. But she couldn't explain it to them, all the things that were keeping her awake at night, driving her up the goddamn wall and making her feel like her life wasn't hers to control.

So again, she changed the subject.

"My mom sent me a letter." She said, fighting to keep her voice clear and even.

"Like an actual fucking letter?" Halle asked, incredulous.

Nora nodded.

"What did she say?" Mei asked.

Nora couldn't force the words through the tightness in her throat. Instead she kept staring into her locker, her hand going numb with how hard she was clutching the door. Her breath hitched, and without a word, Mei pulled her tight into a hug and Halle slipped her hand into hers, squeezing tight. Nora's eyes burned but the tears didn't fall so she just stood there, silently clinging to her friends. She wished she could tell them everything, everything that had happened, could happen, everything that Nora was thinking she might do.

But she couldn't, because it would pull them in.

So what was her other choice?

To push them away with silence and secrets and explanations he wished she could give?

Nora felt a laugh bubbling up into her throat and she forced it down.

She was fucked.

* * *

When Derek stepped out of the boy's bathroom, leaving Jackson to bleed black alone, he wasn't surprised to see Nora standing there. He dragged his eyes to meet hers, hating that he still found her unnerving.

Unnerving.

He found a five foot tall teenage girl with heterochromia unnerving.

Maybe it was less the eye colour, and more the way she seemed to stare right through him like she didn't give a shit, not about him anyway.

Derek sighed and moved to step around her, but she stepped back into his path, pale eyes burning. She opened her mouth to speak as Jackson stumbled out of the bathroom. For a second, Nora's eyes flicked to him, flashing disgust and then disappointment. Derek knew why. He knew she'd come to his house to stop Jackson from getting the bite.

Jackson had come back anyway.

"What do you want?" Derek asked flatly.

Nora looked up at him, her face was a cool mask, but Derek could hear her heart racing. She was a swirl of emotion, of anger, of fear, of something horribly sad.

"I don't know." She said candidly. "I guess I'm just wondering how you sleep at night?"

There it was, the usual sharp remark that he didn't have time for. Derek wasn't going to waste time explaining why he did what he did, not to her. The other hunters were already in town, and he was an alpha with shambles for a pack. He was weak, and he couldn't afford to be weak.

He moved to step past her again, and this time Nora grabbed his arm.

Her grip was tight on the spot where he'd been shot by Kate, and Derek pushed away the memory of the first time he'd met Nora. She hadn't known him, hadn't trusted him, and she'd helped him anyway.

"You're the alpha now, right?" Nora hissed. "What's the plan?"

Derek looked down at her, her mask of composure gone; he could see that she was furious. He wondered if he needed to worry about Nora being on the list of people that wanted him dead.

"Why do you care?" He snapped, jerking his arm out of her grasp.

Nora's face darkened.

"Because you're going to screw me and my friends over and I'd like to see it coming." She said.

"It sounds like you already do." He said flatly.

It dawned on him that he could just brush past her, it would be easy. The only thing holding him where he was was her gaze, and Derek wished he could look away from her with her noticing. But he didn't move, and maybe it was because he'd been staring at her long enough to start noticing the little things like the dark rings under her eyes or how she had to keep stopping her hand from drifting to her necklace.

For a moment, Nora looked a lot like a different girl, one just as determined, and just as scared.

"There are more hunters coming." He said. "Either you have a pack or you die."

"So you're turning people." Nora said quickly. "Who?"

_Anyone I can._

He stared at her; he knew why Scott did what he did. Because he loved Allison, because he wanted to save everyone. But what did Nora want? Why was she doing this? Derek hated that he couldn't tell, couldn't even guess.

Was it just for Scott? Or was there something else that drove her?

"Why do you care?" He asked, realizing he'd already asked her that, and what had she said?

" _Because you're going to screw us over"_

"I just told you why, I like to know what's going on so I can mentally prepare myself for your bullshit. Like, if you want to shove me up against another wall, fine, but you need to send me a handwritten note about it beforehand." Nora snapped, her words came at him fast, like she'd been waiting to have a moment to tear into him.

Maybe she had been.

Derek didn't know why he was letting her.

"I saved your life, remember that?" Nora continued. "You owe me something."

Derek couldn't think of something good to say back to her, something that would prove him right, he didn't owe her anything. He didn't want to, at the very least.

"I remember having broken ribs." He said, taking a quick step past her.

This time Nora didn't move to stop him, but Derek could feel her anger like it was heat radiating off of her and getting trapped in the hallway. He wanted out. He wanted away.

So he kept walking.

"I'm not done." Nora said.

He heard her spin on her heel but he kept walking. He was done. He was.

"Did you know that the cure wasn't real?" She asked, her voice was cold.

That was the other thing Derek had noticed, she seemed colder, sharper, than when they'd first met. And a voice in his head, one that sounded strangely like Peter's asked him "And whose fault is that?" Not all his, for sure, but partly.

Maybe that was why he stopped walking.

But he didn't turn around.

"Did you know that you were stringing Scott along until you got what you wanted?" Nora continued. "He believed you and what did that mean to you? Nothing, did it?"

Derek thought about turning around and threatening her, because that was all he had.

Of course he knew the cure hadn't been real.

But he'd needed Scott's help.

How was he supposed to know everything would have gotten so fucked up?

"Stay out of the way, before someone gets themselves hurt." He said.

Derek strode down the hall and out the door before giving Nora a chance to say another word. But even as he climbed back into his car, he couldn't shake the feeling of her gaze burning into his back.

* * *

Nora stared at the place where Derek had been.

She thought of Catarina's book sitting in her locker.

" _Stay out of the way, before someone gets themselves hurt."_

It was something about the way he'd said it, like she was stupid, or weak, or just not enough, that did it for Nora. She wasn't going to stay out of the way, and she'd like see someone try and make her.

* * *

Scott could feel Nora coming before he saw her. He didn't know if he'd always been able to do that or if it had come with the change. It didn't matter. He turned away from his locker, from where he'd been putting his things away, not to go home but to Kate's funeral.

He had to be there for Allison.

It was probably best that he didn't tell Nora that though.

"Hey." He said.

Nora was twisting her hair around in her hand.

"Do you have a minute?" She asked.

Scott frowned. It was almost hard to look at Nora, at her worn sneakers and small frame and soft looking green sweater, and see the girl who had stood over him at the Hale House, holding a baton to Allison's throat, staring down the barrel of Kate's gun.

She would have died for him.

And that was terrifying.

Yeah, Scott had a minute.

"What's up?" He asked, knowing already it couldn't be anything good.

"My mom wrote me a letter." Nora said, her voice was low.

That was the last thing Scott had expected and he wanted to hit himself. It was so easy to forget that they all supposedly had lives outside of what had happened to him.

"Okay." He said slowly, waiting for her to say more.

Nora just stared down at her feet, and Scott hadn't seen her this shaken since she'd ended things with Stiles.

"What would you do if it was your dad?" She asked.

The words tumbled out of her mouth oddly distant, like she was repeating something she'd heard instead of saying it. But when Nora brought her eyes back up to his they were focused and steady, strange and familiar all at once.

Scott didn't have to think about what he'd do if his father sent him a letter. He wasn't sure it was what Nora wanted to hear, but knowing Nora, she'd want the truth before anything else.

"I'd burn it." He said, not knowing if he'd bother to read it first. "But my dad wouldn't send me a letter." He added, feeling his throat tighten at the sight of Nora's face, pinched with thought, with pain. "And I don't want anything from him, you've always wanted this."

"I just feel like a kid again." Nora said.

Scott frowned.

"You are a kid."

Nora let out a breath of laughter.

"So are you."

Scott didn't know what to say to that because she was right. But it didn't matter. His eyes flicked to the clock, it was getting closer to four, when Kate's funeral would start. For a moment, Scott couldn't quite remember why he wanted to go so badly. But Allison needed him, and he needed to know what was going to happen next with the Argents.

"How are you doing?" Nora asked.

She was studying him now, Scott could tell, ready to ferry the truth out of whatever he said. Instead of saying anything, he let out a sigh.

"Me too." Nora said.

* * *

Nora twirled her pen in her hand, staring at the blank page in front of her. She couldn't stop thinking about her father, about how he'd feel if he knew the door to her mother that he'd so carefully shut, Nora wanted to kick open.

But she wanted to.

And didn't she have the right to?

It was her mother, after all.

And it was just a letter.

Nora took a breath.

* * *

_**Hi Jane,** _

_**I don't want to send you an envelope full of wasps,** _

_**Nora** _

* * *

**As always, feedback is super encouraged, I love hearing what you guys think, and I also want to know what you guys want to see from this next part. Obviously I have stuff I want to see happen/ will make happen, but I'm super open to what you guys think about where the story is going. Thank you for so patient :) and it's going to take me a bit to get used to my new schedule (ahhh starting university) so bear with me if uploads are a little irregular for a bit. I'm super excited about this upcoming part and I hope you all are as well!**

**Also how do we feel about the additional points of view (Derek, Scott)?**


	14. Reach Out

**Not gonna lie, getting yall's reviews fuelllssss me. Also this episode does very little for me so apologies of this chap is kinda week.**

**Chapter Fourteen - Reach Out**

* * *

Nora sat in her bathtub. The only light in the room was coming from outside, where the nearly full moon was fighting through the clouds. She listened as rain started to pour. She tried to tune it out, to only listen to the beat of her heart.

_This is fucking stupid._

Nora forced the thought from her head and slipped lower into the tub. Just her chin was above water.

_**We aren't special. What we know isn't hard to learn. What we do isn't impossible to replicate, and it always terrified me, what the wrong person with the right knowledge could do.** _

Catarina's book sat on the counter. Nora had read it almost twice now, and a lot of it wasn't much use to her. Nora didn't have much interest in the intricacies of spell work, in which herbs did what when paired with which type of dirt on what phase of the moon.

A lot of sounded like bullshit. It was taking everything she had to remind herself that it wasn't. She believed it. She had to. According to Catarina, believing was half the work. And if there was anything Nora could do and do well, it was believe in something she couldn't see or touch or prove beyond a feeling.

Or maybe her faith was nothing.

It felt like nothing, most of the time.

She dipped her head under the tepid water.

_**Find an element, a place, anything, that makes you feel tethered, stronger, just a little closer to right.** _

Nora had to fight to keep her eyes closed. Every cell screamed for her to open them, to open them in time to watch a clawed hand open her window, or Kate Argent's slim figure slip through her door.

She didn't open her eyes. She didn't come up for air despite the slamming of her heart and the tightness in her chest. She could hold her breath for longer than this.

_**There is a greater power in the world. We can prove that. The problem has always been people who want to give it a name, and who want to make people believe in it without letting them see. The church says that "witchcraft" is a dirty word. I think that's just because we can do the things they pray they can. Real power is terrifying to them.** _

Nora sat up. Her pendant was tangled in her hair. She tugged it free and opened her eyes. There was barely any difference between having her eyes shut and the near pitch black of her bathroom.

That was the other problem with Catarina's book, she had a tendency to preach and Nora didn't care. She could wrestle with God later.

She slipped back under the water.

_**I can't describe how it feels, to reach out and actually feel something, to know there's more. I remember being afraid, of myself, of my mother, who reached out so easily. There was a moment, when I realized there was more, when I felt the current that's there, in everything, that I wanted to turn away. It was almost too much; sometimes it still is, to tie myself to this intangible thing. I wanted to be in control. Who doesn't?** _

Nora focused on the beat of her heart, on how if she tried hard enough, she could make it slow.

She believed in more. She always had. She knew there was more. Scott was proof.

So where was it?

_**The most important thing I learned was probably the hardest.** _

Nora strained to hear the difference between the rush of the rain outside and the rush of blood in the rears. The two sounds overlapped and intertwined, like the rush of one river.

_**Control is overrated.** _

* * *

Nora's English class froze when Lydia Martin walked in. She imagined that had been happening to her all day. If Lydia noticed, Nora couldn't tell. She strode to the back of the room and took her spot next to Nora, her chin raised against the silent stares of her classmates. Nora was trying not to look at her, something she was sure Lydia might care to notice. She couldn't look at her and not see her bloodied on the field or sickly pale in a hospital bed. She couldn't look at Lydia and not think of Kate Argent, using her to twist her way into Allison's head.

Lydia cleared her throat.

Nora looked over at her.

"You didn't miss much last class." She said.

Lydia scowled.

"Thanks for letting me know."

With a flip of her hair she turned to the board. Nora looked down at the blank page of her notebook. What the hell was she supposed to say to Lydia? It was a miracle she didn't know what was really going on around her. Was Nora supposed to shatter that? Was she supposed to tell her that she shouldn't be alive?

Nora leaned forwards and put her head on her desk, listening to the new alien pulsing in her head like it was a second heartbeat. She wasn't sure what she did, what Catarina's book had showed her how to do. She was only sure that it had worked.

* * *

The only thing that stopped Stiles from sprinting through the Beacon Hills High Schools hallways were all the goddamn people in the way.

Tonight was the full moon, and the only non-wolfed-out werewolf in town would be Derek, who was one of Stiles' biggest problems. There was also Allison's freak grandfather who had sworn revenge for his sociopath daughter, ripped a homeless omega in half, and was the principal.

_Fuck._

Stiles also knew far too much about Scott's sex life.

And he had detention.

Stiles turned around a corner and stopped. He needed to tell Nora what the hell was going on. But right now, it didn't look like he could.

She was leaning back against her locker; Ben was standing opposite to her. She laughed, easily, like she didn't have a thousand things to worry about. Stiles hadn't seen her smile like that in what felt like months, in what probably had been months.

Guilt wormed its way into his chest. Why? Because he used to make her laugh like that? Because she used to look at him like that? Because he was trying to catch her eye and pull her away?

Nora's eyes flicked to him, and Stiles wondered if she could feel him staring. Her smile faltered. She turned back to Ben as the bell rang. He started down the hallway, glancing back at her as he did.

Stiles wanted to put his fist through a wall. Not because of Ben, the other guy that was really the only guy.

No, what Stiles really wanted to punch was himself.

He walked up to Nora, feeling something in his chest deflate as her face hardened. It was like her smile had been a mask, and Stiles was forcing her to peel it off.

"Isaac Lahey is a werewolf." He spat out, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Nora furrowed her brow.

"Who?"

Nora knew everyone, but she didn't know Isaac. Stiles tried to push away the gnawing thought in his head that Isaac had been on his team, in some of his classes, and he'd barely ever noticed him.

"Tall, brown hair, plays lacrosse, always looks kinda like death?" He offered.

Nora's puzzled look faded into anger.

"I don't know if we ever had a chance to kill Derek." She said. "But we should have taken it."

Stiles was trying not to think about the number of times they'd helped that bastard, and for what? Nothing. He'd stolen Scott's chance at a normal life, if there ever even was one.

"Yeah, well, we're probably gonna need him." He sighed. "Tonight's the full moon and Isaac is supposed to spend it in a holding cell."

"You're fucking kidding."

Stiles wished he was. He explained what had happened. Something had ripped Isaac's father to pieces, and as long as the police thought it was Isaac, it didn't matter if it was true or not.

Because if Isaac spent the full moon trapped in the station, he would be a murderer by the morning.

Nora frowned. He could see the gears turning in her head and Stiles would rather talk about anything but werewolves. All they ever talked about werewolves. His eyes flicked to Ben's retreating back. He had caught up with his friends, a gym bag slung over his shoulder. Stiles saw Nora follow his gaze. She looked back at him, an eyebrow quirked.

"What?" She asked him.

"Nothing." Stiles said.

Nora rolled her eyes at him, but in the friendly way that Stiles missed.

"So what's the plan for breaking Isaac out of jail, I assume you have one?" She asked.

Stiles watched as Nora put her books from that morning away. He glanced into her locker. It was neat, Nora was always neat. But she used to decorate her locker with stickers and photos, anything to "make it look less like a metal closet." Maybe she hadn't bothered to decorate again after she'd moved away from him and Scott, after they'd broken up.

"Stiles?" She pressed. "What the fuck are we going to do?"

He snapped back to her, feeling small under her two-toned gaze.

"Scott said he and Allison were going to figure something out." Stiles said, unsurprised when Nora's eyes darkened.

" _If I ever trust her, do me a favour and shoot me."_

Stiles frowned. He couldn't shake the look of Nora's face when she'd said that, or the fact that she'd even said it. She was furious, but it was more than that, she was cold. Stiles couldn't shake how wrong it seemed for Nora to hate someone as much as it seemed she hated Allison.

"I know you don't trust her, but you could-"

"Be nicer?" Nora snapped, cutting him off.

Stiles opened his mouth to explain that that wasn't what he was going to say. He was going to say that she didn't have to look murderous every time her name was mentioned.

"You weren't there." Nora continued. Her eyes were on him, but Stiles felt like she was looking through him, at something he couldn't see. "She doesn't think with her head, and whatever, some people don't." She gave him a pointed look. "But one wrong move and she can get Scott killed. She shouldn't have come to the hospital the other night; I had hoped that when I asked her to take me she'd say no. She shouldn't be going anywhere near Scott at all, especially since she claims to love him so much. I love Scott to, and if me being around him would put him in danger, I'd stay away, no matter how much it hurt."

Her words fell out of her mouth, like she hadn't planned on saying so much. Her knuckles were white where she was gripping the door of her locker.

Stiles knew he shouldn't tell her what he was about to. But if anyone could scare sense into Scott, it was Nora.

"They're still seeing each other." He told her.

Nora turned to him, slowly, like she was trying to decide if she'd heard him correctly. Stiles' heart hammered.

"Jesus fucking Christ." She said.

Her surprise had quickly turned to anger. Stiles couldn't help but notice she was quicker to get angry now, but he couldn't blame her.

"What?" She sputtered. "Does he- does he have some kind of a death wish? She shot him!"

Stiles shushed her, frantically looking around for anyone who'd heard, or seem to care about what they'd heard. There was no one.

"He loves her." He offered weakly.

Nora made a face somewhere between confused and disgusted.

"So?" She said. "I loved you, I still walked away."

Stiles didn't know what to say to that. Maybe Nora was smarter than Scott, made better choices. His mouth couldn't form the words.

" _I loved you."_

Past tense.

Stiles knew that. He did.

But it was different to hear it out loud.

The second bell rang, reminding them both that they still had places to be. Real life, normal life, was still happening around them. Nora said something that Stiles didn't hear, and then she was walking away.

* * *

Nora wasn't sure who she wanted to scream at more, Allison, or Scott. Realistically, it would be whoever she saw first.

She slammed her bedroom door shut and tossed her backpack across the room onto her bed.

She was sacrificing pieces of every part of life for Scott.

And he couldn't give up Allison?

She understood wanting someone even after they'd hurt her. She understood still loving them. But staying with them? Giving them the chance to hurt her again? No fucking way.

Stiles could have begged for her to forgive him, and Nora liked to believe she would have been strong enough to say no. She was sure if he turned around tomorrow and told her he wanted her back, she'd laugh.

Her heart hammered in her ears, and something else beat along with it, thrumming like electricity, like a current.

Nora's hands went to the cross around her neck. She'd done this, kicked open whatever door this was, to protect Scott. Nora was sure she'd be glad she did it, since it seemed more and more like Scott didn't have any interest in protecting himself.

Still, she wanted to scream. She wanted to scream until her voice cracked and went silent, until it felt like there wasn't anything left inside of her that needed to get out. Why had this happened? Why her? What the hell had she done to deserve all of this bullshit?

Nothing. She knew that. Nora knew that life wasn't about fairness; it was all about circumstances, and choices. At every turn she had chosen to do more, to get in deeper.

But it was different, knowing that she may have done something she couldn't undo.

Nora took a breath. She stood in the centre of her room, the contents of her backpack spilling onto the floor. Her phone was among them. Soon the screen would light up with a message from Stiles, roping her into a half-baked plan involving everyone in the world she wanted to hit. She was sick of it. She was sick of being angry.

Nora shut her eyes and curled her hands into fists, and slowly uncurled them. She wouldn't be much use to anyone of she lost it.

_**It's hard to convince people that control and focus are different, at least to us they are. Control suggests dominance, like magic is something that you could cage and force to work your way. When I think of focus, I think of balance.** _

She opened her eyes and turned to her bookshelf. A scented candle she'd repurposed as a bookend sat there; it had never been lit. Nora took a step closer to it. Light streamed in from her window. The full moon was on the rise. Everything, and everyone, was supposed to be stronger tonight.

She picked up the candle and stared at it, resisting the urge to think of what she might say if anyone walked into her bedroom. "No, Marisa, I stand in the dark and stare at this candle every night. Don't you know me?"

A pang of guilt shot through her chest at the thought of Marisa. She hadn't been nearly as lively over the past few days. But she also had never mentioned the mystery surrounding Kate Argent again.

Those were the kind of sacrifices Nora was sick of making. Her sister had nothing to do with what happened in this town after dark, and yet it was hurting her anyway.

Nora turned her focus back to the candle. How was she supposed to do this? Could she even do it?

_Light._

The candle did not light. Nora wasn't surprised. Just thinking at it didn't feel right.

She thought of her hand at her side and made it back into a fist. She imagined a flame curling from the wick as she opened her hand. She tried to block out every sound other than the new foreign pulse in her head. It was like being able to hear someone else's heartbeat.

A flame flickered to life. It danced on the wick, small and bright, the only light in the room.

"Holy shit."

Nora nearly dropped the candle.

Quickly, she set it down on her desk, watching as it continued to burn.

A wide smile broke out onto her face. Nora felt as if an anvil had been lifted from her chest. She could do something. She could do something more than plan and watch the plan go wrong. She could do more than wish she was more.

Nora knew the flame flickering in front of her wasn't much. But it felt like a promise.

* * *

Derek hated the jeep. If anything ever went the way he wanted, he would never spend another minute in it. It didn't help that Nora was a ball of barely contained tension in the backseat. She kept glowering at him like any second she would lean between the two front seats and try to slit his throat.

Derek wondered if he would put it past her.

She probably had the stomach for it.

But Stiles was almost worst. He wouldn't stop tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

They pulled up in front of the Sheriff's station, and Stiles let out a sigh.

"Okay." He said. "The keys to every cell are in a password protected lockbox in my father's office. The problem is getting past the front desk." Stiles explained.

That actually sounded like the least of their problems.

"I'll distract her." Derek said, reaching for the door handle

Stiles grabbed his shoulder, fumbling with the collar of his jacket. It took everything Derek had not to hit him.

"What you? You're not going in there." Stiles spat out.

Derek let his eyes flick between Stiles' face and his hand on his arm. "Don't fucking touch me." It what he wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut.

"I'm taking my hand off." Stiles said, jerking his arm away.

"I was exonerated." Derek said, hoping they wouldn't dwell on the topic.

He hadn't killed Laura, but he might as well have.

"You're still a person of interest." Stiles said.

"And you're going to distract her with that? Your charm?" Nora added, finally speaking up.

"An innocent person." Derek reiterated, ignoring Nora's jibe.

Stiles looked at him like he'd just grown a second head.

"An- you?" He looked back at Nora, searching her face for something and clearly not finding it. Stiles turned back to him. "Yeah, right."

Derek shrugged, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. It didn't matter what they thought about what he was guilty of, what they thought about him at all. He just needed Isaac out of that stupid cell.

"Okay, fine." Stiles said. "What's your plan?"

"To distract her." Derek said again.

Nora pinched her brow.

"Uh-huh. How?" Stiles asked. "By punching her in the face?"

Derek might have asked if they thought that was his approach to everything, but he knew that it was.

"By talking to her." He said.

Stiles turned back to Nora, and Derek followed his face. Her eyes were narrowed at him, like she half expected him to get out of the car and leave them to deal with Isaac alone.

"Give us a sample." She said. "I'm not convinced you can carry a conversation without implying a threat."

"Exactly." Stiles said. "What are you gonna open with?"

Derek scowled at them. What did it matter what he was going to open with? He didn't know, he'd figure it out, and right now they were wasting time. He glanced out the window at the moon. It still had farther to rise, but for someone like Isaac, it didn't really matter. He was going to shift, and he was going to get violent when he did.

"Dead silence." Stiles said. "That should work beautifully. Any other ideas?"

"I'm thinking about punching you in the face." Derek said dragging his eyes back to Stiles.

Nora threw herself against the backseats.

"What if I go in?" She offered. Her voice was biting.

Stiles was gaping at her. Derek turned around to try and see if she was serious.

"Isaac is in there." Stiles said.

Nora shrugged.

"It's not like I'm walking in there with a dog bowl with his name on it." She said. "Which is one step up from your usual plans."

Stiles scoffed. Derek didn't know what they were talking about. He popped open the door and slammed it shut before either of them could say another word.

He strode up the steps and inside, trying to forget the feeling of being walked up those very steps, handcuffs digging into his wrists. Innocent or not, that memory wouldn't go away.

He drummed his fingers along the counter as the officer stepped into the room. Derek tried to feel like he belonged, like he had the right to walk into the station and ask this woman to do him a favour.

"Good evening." She said, her eyes trained down on a file, her voice was flat. "How can I help you?" She looked up at him, her voice lightening as she smiled.

Derek twisted his face into a grin, wondering if it looked as alien as it felt. He could feel Stiles and Nora watching him from the doorway.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi." She said, looking him up and down.

Derek ignored the urge to cringe away and let his face fall. He could feel Isaac like he was another limb, a painful seizing limb.

"Um, I had a question." He began, leaning closer to her. "Uh sorry, I'm a little thrown; I wasn't really expecting someone…" He trailed off, letting her fill in the gap.

"Like me?"

He watched as Stiles carefully made his way through reception, Nora walking behind him. Her steps were silent, even though she wasn't being nearly as careful.

"I was going to say someone so incredibly beautiful, but yeah, I guess that would be the same thing." Derek said.

His stomach turned. He hated this. The last time he'd flirted in earnest, he'd been young. Scott's age. Realistically, he'd been a lot like Scott.

" _If I go with you, I lose her."_

Derek had to stop himself from scowling at what Scott had said to him in Isaac's house.

" _You'll lose her anyway."_

It didn't matter how, or when, or why. Scott would lose Allison. The same way Stiles had so obviously lost Nora. The same way Derek had lost-

The deputy asked him a question. Derek moved away from his thought, and widened his smile.

* * *

Nora followed Stiles into his father's office. They didn't dare turn on a light. He strode over to the lockbox and punched in a code. Nora eyed the door.

"Oh no." Stiles said slowly, whirling around.

Nora's heart crawled into her throat.

"What?"

"The keys are gone." Stiles said.

"Fuck."

They darted back into the hallway. Nora's eyes fell to the floor. There was blood.

"Allison was supposed to take care of him." Nora said lowly.

Stiles turned to her, looking slightly sick. He gestured to the floor.

"Yeah and it looks like she tried." He said quickly. "What the hell did you think she was going to do?"

Nora didn't say anything, and instead charged down the hall. The lights above her head flickered as she did.

Allison had seemed all too prepared to kill Derek.

And no, Nora didn't think Allison should have killed the hunter her father sent after Isaac. But if she'd shot him in the side, he'd be in the hospital instead of here.

A deputy stepped into the hallway. Stiles stopped dead.

"Oh, ah, just looking for-" He stopped.

Nora had already seen what he had, the broken shaft of an arrow sticking out of the man's leg.

For a moment, no one moved.

Stiles pushed Nora back, turning to run as the hunter seized him and clamped his hand over Stiles' mouth. The hunter held the syringe in his hand to Stiles' neck, and his gaze with Nora's. It was like he was daring her to move, to do so much as speak.

He continued to drag Stiles back down the hallway, and Stiles, Stiles didn't even look afraid. Either he didn't know there was a needle being held to his neck, or more likely, he knew the hunter needed it for Isaac.

Nora reached out and pulled the fire alarm, the shrill sound breaking the hunter's focus on them both. He forced Stiles to the floor and sprinted around the corner. Nora didn't wait, and ran after him. She could hear Stiles' sneakers squeaking on the linoleum behind her.

Her heart hammered, the current beneath her skin thrummed. Nora wondered if the candle in her bedroom was still burning, if she was keeping it alive or if it was flickering on its own.

Stiles ran into her she stopped in the doorway of the holding cells. The hunter was frozen, staring at the warped door to one of the cells.

A figure was poised the corner of Nora's eye. She reeled back as Isaac lunged at the hunter. Stiles' hand was on her arm, pulling her with him as he scrambled behind a desk.

"Shit." She said.

Isaac roared, tossing the hunter against the far wall. He twisted the hunter's arm, and with a sickening snap, the syringe fell from the man's hand. Isaac stood over the hunter's limp form. Something in Nora's stomach turned. She jumped to her feet.

She wasn't about to watch this kid rip a man to pieces.

Derek stepped into the room, the syringe crunching under his foot.

Isaac reeled around. His eyes, wide with fear and rage, settled on her and Stiles.

Nora seized Stiles' hand and yanked him to his feet as Derek roared. Nora froze, watching as Isaac turned in on himself and coward, crouching next to the hunter he'd just attacked. He turned back to them; his face was half hidden by his arm wrapped around his head. She remembered what Stiles had told her, that Isaac's father had been beating him, and probably had been for years.

She looked at Derek, and then back to the boy huddled on the floor.

Rage coiled in her chest. So that was how Derek had done it. He'd found someone vulnerable, who needed strength, who needed family, and he promised him he'd get it.

"How did you do that?" Stiles asked, his voice wavering.

Derek looked back at them, almost smug.

"I'm the alpha."

Nora let Stiles' hand fall from hers as he stood up, shaky on his feet. She looked back at Derek. There was no shortage of vulnerable people in the world, and Beacon Hills was not an exception. If Derek wanted teenagers with low self-esteem, an unrelenting want for strength, to fit in somewhere, no matter the cost, to make decisions that would change their life without regard, he would find them. She remembered Scott telling her that once Derek had said werewolves were predators, but that they didn't have to be killers.

How was turning teenagers any different?

Isaac's life was never going to be the same, no matter how ruined it had been before, it was definitely worse now.

Nora let her eyes meet his, and wondered if Derek was listening to the steady beat of her heart in her chest, and to the foreign thing that now beat beside it. Could he hear that to?

"You're a monster."

* * *

Sofia watched Nora tread up the stairs and towards her bedroom. She gripped the handle of her mug, her tea now cold.

"She's unhappy." She said, looking over at Pete.

He leaned on the island, staring into the potted orchid that sat there.

"I know." He said, his low voice rougher than usual. "Isabelle asked me about it the other day."

Sox strolled into the kitchen; the massive Irish Wolfhound was nearly as tall as the breakfast table Sofia was sitting at. It put its head in her lap.

"Why can't we just ask her what it is?" Sofia asked, letting her frustration bleed into her voice. She didn't want to dance around this anymore.

Pete gave her a wry look, his deep blue eyes the saddest she'd seen them in years.

"Because she won't answer."

Sofia knew that, but that didn't mean she had to accept it.

"It's like living with a ghost." She said, careful to keep her voice hushed. "She barely speaks at meals; she doesn't spend time with the twins, or with us. I only know she's still here because Sox still gets walked and the dishes get done." She stood up and crossed the room, standing opposite to her husband at the island. "It's not Stiles anymore, that much I think we can tell."

Pete levelled his gaze with hers, and ran a hand over his face, scratching at his beard.

"I know."

Sofia sighed and strode towards the stairs.

"Well it's nice that you know things, Pete."

"Sof-" He began.

"I'm going to bed." She cut him off.

Sofia loved her husband, but she knew his worst flaw well. He was too patient with people. He gave them too many chances. He did it with Nora's mother, and now with Nora. Sofia couldn't let her just drift away, not if she didn't know where she was going.

* * *

**Lol so this took two weeks, IDK I'm tired and busy. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated, I'm so excited for season 2 to start picking up so things can get legit interesting. I think season 2 and 3b are the best of the show TBH.**


	15. Fissures

**Hey guys so I don't know what the fuck happened to the month of October! RIP my free time I guess?**

**Chapter Fifteen - Fissures**

* * *

Nora lay sprawled on Stiles' bedroom floor. Almost a dozen books were spread between them, and double that amount of tabs was open on their laptops.

A lizard creature.

Nora pinched her brow.

Beacon Hills was starting to feel overcrowded.

Her eyes drifted to Stiles. He was bent over his computer, brown eyes bright and focused. She was glad one of them could manage to stay on task, because Nora couldn't. There was distraction everywhere. The candle that still burned on her desk. The letter she'd sent to her mother that had still gone unreplied. The framed photo of her and Stiles on his bedside table.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from it long enough to focus.

It was a moment out of time, a piece of her and Stiles' history that Nora had wanted to forget.

They were friends first.

They were just friends in the photo, but Nora wondered if a casual observer would have been able to tell. Stiles arm was looped loosely around her neck, and his head was resting on her shoulder. She was laughing at something, but Nora could only remember that she'd been trying to get Stiles to laugh to. Stiles wasn't even looking at the camera in her hand. His smile was small and almost forced. It had been the final lacrosse game of last season, and Stiles hadn't seen the field once.

Why frame that memory?

Nora looked back to Stiles. Her thoughts swirled the way they almost always did when she looked at him, buzzing with a question, "why?"

"When did you get that printed?" She asked, her voice shattering the hour long silence of turned pages and the click of keys.

Stiles' head jerked up from his laptop.

"What?"

Nora gave the photo a pointed look, and Stiles followed her gaze.

"Oh." His eyes darted to her and then back down to his screen. "I knew you liked it. I was gonna give it to you."

Nora frowned. She had a lot of pictures she liked. Her lock screen photo of her sisters in the Boston snow. Halle grinning wildly the moment before she shoved Mei off of the dock at her Aunt's cottage. But not the one that sat on Stiles' nightstand.

"Stiles." Her voice was flat. "I don't like that picture. You look fucking miserable in it."

Stiles dragged his eyes back up to hers. Nora cocked her head, hoping he wasn't about to make her put energy into reading him. He held her gaze for a long moment and then sighed. Nora tried to kill the feeling of satisfaction that rose in her chest. But it was there, a nagging voice in her head that didn't sound much like her own saying, "you won."

"It's my favourite picture of you, okay?" Stiles said, his voice was barbed. "I found it in my phone around Christmas and I just- do you want me to put it away?"

Nora frowned, because "do you want me to put it away?" came across a lot like, "do you want me to put you away?"

"No, Stiles it's fine." She said quickly. "I was just wondering."

Stiles nodded, and pulled his attention back to his computer. Nora still couldn't keep her eyes away from the photo. Why was it his favourite picture of her? Why did he like it enough to print it? Why did she care so goddamn much?

Nora knew why she cared. After she'd left Stiles she had tried to convince herself that he had never cared about her, never loved her. She knew it had never been true, and probably never would be. Now the proof was sitting on his bedside table, smiling at her from the spring before. He had loved her, just not in the way she'd wanted. Now Nora didn't even want him, but it still stung, knowing that she'd never been everything to him the he'd been for her.

Or maybe, that wasn't how love worked.

Nora didn't know, and the list of things she didn't know, was getting too fucking long.

She looked back down at her screen, and the bullshit open on it.

"Do we think it's an alien?" She asked flatly. "Or George Bush's true form?"

"Both." Stiles scoffed.

Nora let out a huff of laughter and shut her laptop. She was far less concerned with what it was then who. She couldn't shake the memory of Jackson, stumbling out of the boy's bathroom, black blood dripping from his ear. She had neglected to share that particular memory with anyone else, and perhaps she should. But Nora liked to think that sometimes divine intervention was a thing, and that finally, Jackson hadn't gotten the one thing he'd wanted.

Stiles sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Don't you have to go home?" He asked.

"I'm at Mei's." Nora answered. "We have a math test first thing tomorrow morning. We're cramming for it all night, and besides, she lives closer to the school."

Stiles gaped at her. Nora shrugged, and slid her computer into her backpack, along with the books she'd checked out. She didn't like lying, but it wasn't difficult for her to do either. Nora wondered if Scott found it hard to lie, like he was to her about Allison.

A weight settled in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Allison. Nora couldn't wrap her head around the fact that they were still together. All she wanted to know was if they were too stupid to realize the danger their relationship put Scott in, or if they just didn't care.

Nora didn't know which would be worse.

"Who do you think it is?" Stiles asked, shaking her from her thoughts.

She looked up at him. There was a name on her lips, but it wasn't Jackson's.

"I don't know."

Stiles shot her an incredulous look.

"Nora." He pressed.

"You're the detective here, Stiles." She said, her voice was heavy with exhaustion.

Something shifted in Stiles' face, a shadow passing over it. He moved closer to her, leaning his head towards her, like they weren't the only two people in the room.

"What do you think Lydia is?" He asked.

Stiles' voice was low. It was as if he thought asking the question might make her turn.

Nora was still just trying not to hate the sound of Stiles saying her name.

"Lucky." She lied.

Stiles sighed and rolled onto his back, crumpling paper.

"Someone should be."

* * *

Nora watched as Erica Reyes' stretcher disappeared around a corner. Whispers crawled up the hall, gossip. About what, Nora didn't know. Erica was epileptic; sometimes she would have seizures, what was there to talk about?

Scott and Stiles strode out of the boys locker room.

"Scott." Nora called out. "I need to talk to you."

Her voice was cutting. Nora had to remind herself that she wanted to sound that way. Just because it was Scott she was angry with, didn't mean she should be less angry or cold or whatever it was she was now. Nora didn't like this version of herself, but being nice wasn't going to keep her alive, or anyone else for that matter.

The two boys whipped around, Stiles' face falling. Nora couldn't bring herself to care. So what if Stiles didn't want her to confront Scott about Allison? He wasn't going to do it, and someone had to.

She felt Scott studying her as she turned down a quiet hallway, lined with storage and unused athletic offices. Nora leaned back against the wall. She could feel the chill of the cinder block through the back of her t-shirt.

"You're still with Allison." Nora said.

She had to force herself to keep her eyes on Scott's. Nora wanted to look away, to not be angry, and to cut Scott slack.

Why?

She didn't get any.

"I-" Scott began.

"You knew I wouldn't be happy, didn't you?"

She grimaced at her words. It shouldn't matter if she was "happy" about Scott's choice of girlfriend, but he'd been keeping this from her for a reason. Nora knew Scott probably just wanted to avoid this conversation, or more likely, he didn't want her to worry.

Too late.

Scott searched her face, his expression was almost desperate.

"Nora-" Scott started

"If we were normal, this wouldn't be my place and I know that." Nora said. "But Scott, she shot you."

Scott's face changed, it was like watching a door close. Nora felt like her words had clattered to the floor.

"Allison wouldn't hurt me." Scott said. "She wouldn't hurt any of us."

His voice was urgent and insistent, like he was trying to convince both of them. Nora wondered how often he spun excuse after excuse for Allison just so he could feel right about loving her.

"But she did."

Nora's teeth ground against one another as she clenched her jaw. She pushed herself off of the wall and stared furiously up at Scott. She hated to admit it, but she felt small.

"That was Kate." Scott said. His voice was low.

Nora scoffed, letting rage and frustration and the familiar flutter of panic swirl in her chest. She felt her cheeks grow hot, and her hands curl and uncurl at her sides. How could he be this naive?

"Oh, and Kate exists in a vacuum now?" She snapped. "Who raised Kate, Scott? Who made her?"

The let the question hang in the air between them, because they both knew the answer.

Gerard Argent. Kate's father, Allison's grandfather, and the Beacon Hills High School principal.

"Allison's different." Scott said sharply.

"Not that different." Nora pressed. "It wasn't hard for Kate to get into her head. I was there. I watched it happen."

Scott opened his mouth to say something and then shut it. He shifted his weight, his dark eyes flicking furiously from Nora to the wall behind her.

"What?"

"Nothing." Scott sighed.

"What is it, Scott?"

Nora took a careful step forward, refusing to shift her gaze from his. Scott's eyes narrowed.

"Exactly, you watched Kate mess with Allison!" Scott shouted. "She didn't know what was going on, and you did! But she knows now, Allison knows everything."

Nora gaped at Scott.

Had he actually just insinuated that Allison turning into a monster for a night had been her fault?

He had, hadn't he?

That was exactly what he'd fucking said.

"Scott that is the most ridiculous fucking thing I have ever heard." She snapped. "And if you don't give a shit that she could turn on you, could you at least care that if you're found out, you're dead!"

"We're careful." Scott said.

But there was a hitch in his voice, and his face changed. Hora got a glimpse of panic, just for a second.

"Who found out?" She asked.

Her voice was cutting and even, but she couldn't unclench her fists, or loosen the set of her shoulders. Nora wondered if she was always this wound. She must have been. How else could she stay alive?

Why did everything have to be about staying alive?

"Nora-"

"Who?" She pressed

"Derek, but-" Scott began.

"Derek?" Nora cut him off with a scoff. "Derek isn't exactly Sherlock Holmes, Scott. If he found out, how long do you think you have until her-"

"Nora, I can't think about this right now!" Scott shouted, taking a quick step forward. Nora lurched back, the chilled brick biting into her shoulders.

She had never been afraid of Scott. She'd been afraid for him, with him. But never, in Nora's life, had she been afraid of him.

But in that moment, with her back pressed against the wall, and her heart railing against her ribs, the only thing Nora could taste was fear.

She let the moment sit there as she tried to search for words. But she couldn't stop thinking about a different quiet hallway, where she'd tried to help Jackson, where Derek had backed her up against the same cinder block.

Scott took a quick step back, an agonized look on his face.

"I'm not losing Allison." He said. "I can't."

Disgust wormed its way into Nora's throat, she choked it back.

"I didn't think I could lose Stiles." She said, softening her voice.

Nora took a small step towards him and tried to force the tension out of her body. She couldn't, it was tangled with her veins. Everything was life or death now, or at least it felt like it. She wanted to protect Scott, to save him, that was the only thing Nora had ever wanted.

Now, Nora didn't want to look at him.

"You and Stiles are still friends." Scott said.

"Stiles never tried to kill me." Nora said, struggling to keep her facade of calm, soft edges. Something had to get through to Scott; maybe this version of herself, a kinder one, would be the thing to do it.

She wondered if Scott could see right through her.

"Allison didn't-" He began.

Nora cut him off with a bark of laughter.

"No, you're right Scott. She only shot you with an arrow, and then stood there like a deer in headlights when her aunt was actually going to kill you." She snapped.

_Us._

"Nora, I love her! And if you don't care about that then- Allison is the only way we know what her family is planning."

"Are you kidding?" Nora felt her lips curl into a sneer. "She can't even help us with that!"

Nora knew that their voices were carrying through the hall, but she didn't care. Scott needed to hear this, Nora would scream if she had to.

"Then what do you want me to say?" Scott pressed.

"I don't want you to say anything, Scott!" Nora stepped forward, forcing Scott to walk back until he hit the opposite wall. "I want you to listen."

She felt the air thrumming around her, like she was standing still in a coursing river. She wanted to move with it. She wanted to do something. She wanted to make Scott feel an ounce of what she felt, the frustration, the helplessness.

Nora shoved the feeling aside, and dragged her eyes up to Scott's.

"I am listening." He insisted. "But you're not always right Nora!"

She could have hit him. That was his defense? To turn this around on her? Nora bit back the petulant urge to shout at him, "Yeah? When the fuck have I been wrong?"

"You will not be together forever." Nora said, letting all of her bit back venom seep into her voice. "You just won't, and you know what?" She stepped back lazily, like they were ordinary, like this had been an ordinary chat. "The next time someone points a gun at you, I'm not stepping in front of it."

Nora turned on her heel and stormed down the hallway. She hoped Scott was listening for her heartbeat, because if he was, he'd find that it was as steady as a ticking clock.

* * *

Stiles' eyes kept drifting across the cafeteria to Nora, where she was sitting with her friends. She was glowering at her uneaten food, and her knee was ceaselessly bouncing under the table. Stiles wanted more than anything to get up and make her feel better somehow. He wanted to fix the strange space between them, to mend the new rift between her and Scott before it could grow. But he couldn't. He couldn't do shit for Nora or Scott or even himself.

He glanced back at Scott, fighting to stop himself from asking exactly how their conversation had gone. Stiles didn't need specifics no matter how badly he wanted them. Neither of them had changed the other one's mind, and now they were both pissed.

Stiles wondered if his urge to just fucking fix it somehow was what Scott felt when he and Nora had broken up.

He chased the thought out of his head.

They can't fracture now. They just can't.

But maybe they will.

He tried to recall the few times Scott and Nora had fought for real. He struggled to remember a time when he'd thought, "Holy shit, they could hate each other for this."

There was one time, though. One summer Nora went away to her Aunt's and was characteristically bad at keeping in touch. That year, it had bothered Scott far more than Stiles. That was also the summer after his dad was officially split from Melissa. He remembered their argument in pieces, Stiles having done his best to ignore it until he couldn't fucking take it anymore.

" _How can you only be our friend 9 months out of the year?"_

" _Scott, you realize I'm allowed to not be your shoulder to cry on all the Goddamn time, right?"_

At that time, it had been a massive deal for Nora to say "goddamn", and that was when Stiles had known she was really, really upset with Scott.

Stiles shoved his tray away, the memory of them fighting churning his stomach. They had all been at each other's throats before, and they had always come back from it. But things were starting to feel different. Everything they said and did to each other was starting to feel so much more permanent. Stiles was starting to feel like his and Nora's breakup had been a warning, the first crack in an old foundation that was now starting to fissure.

_Fuck._

He turned to look back at Nora, but the cafeteria door swinging open caught his attention. A girl strode in, and it took Stiles a long moment to recognize her. That was probably the point, because no had ever seen Erica Reyes in high heels, or a shirt skirt, or with glossy perfectly curled hair. Stiles could feel the mood of the room shift, and start to hear one question make its rounds. "How the hell did that happen?"

He and Scott locked eyes and stood up, following Erica's victorious stride out of the room.

Stiles didn't need to look back to know that Nora didn't follow them.

* * *

Nora lay sprawled on Ben's bedroom floor. Their math books were spread between them, and various YouTube videos that had nothing to do with math were open on their laptops.

An after school study date was a normal thing to do, and that felt wrong.

Nora felt wrong that she wasn't with Scott and Stiles chasing after Erica Reyes, or locked in her bedroom reading about mythical creatures, or trying to build her strange new supernatural muscle.

No, she was doing something nice and normal and that almost made her happy, and she felt fucking guilty about it.

She tossed her pen down on her open book and buried her face in the carpet. She felt Ben lie down opposite to her, mirroring her defeat on the floor.

"You okay?" He asked.

Nora could hear his smile, his wide grin that she was starting to get used to, that made her chest loosen a little when she saw it.

She liked it.

She liked him.

And that felt wrong to.

Before Nora could stop it, there were tears welling in her eyes, so she kept her face pressed to the carpet. She could feel her silence dragging. She could feel him wondering if he'd somehow done something wrong. Maybe he was afraid he'd overstepped by having them hang out in his room. Maybe he was worried he shouldn't have shut his bedroom door.

No, it wasn't him, it was her, and Nora had to spit out something, anything, no matter how much her voice shook when she did.

"I wrote my mom a letter and she hasn't written me back."

She didn't elaborate, and Nora doubted she had to. Beacon Hills was a small town, and Ben's parents were friends with hers, and they all went to the same church. The story of Pete Morrissey's drug addicted ex was an open secret to most people that knew him.

Ben's hand brushed against hers, and Nora lifted her head from the floor. She intertwined her fingers with his and opened her mouth to say something, though Nora wasn't sure what. All that came out was a half strangled sob.

She pressed her face back into the carpet, and felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. She felt stupid. She felt stupid for getting so Goddamn upset when she was supposed to be having fun, and she felt stupid for feeling bad about it.

"Hey." His voice was soft, and his hand tightened around hers.

Nora lifted her head back up to look at him. What was this? Their third or fourth actual date? And she was already crying in front of him.

"She will." Ben said, and there was a certainty in his voice that Nora wanted to trust. "And if she doesn't, then you'll know, right?"

Nora pulled her textbook back towards her, and let her hand rest in his.

_Maybe then I'll feel like I actually fucking know something._

* * *

Scott was trying his hardest not to let his eyes drift to the security cameras. They were a staple in the cafeteria, new after "Derek Hale" had "broken in" to the school and tried to murder some students. He wondered if it was too conspicuous, him and Allison sitting at different tables, but back to back.

But what he supposed to do?

It was impossible for him to ignore Allison. Scott hadn't been able to get her out of his head since they'd met. Though there were things he wished he could forget. Like the night at the Hale House. That night wouldn't leave him alone.

He remembered the sharp taste of bile in his mouth when he'd felt her across the clearing. Scott was sure his heart had stopped when he saw her, her bow drawn and Kate at her back. She had shot him. She had notched and fired her arrow and Scott had felt like he was watching his life unfold from behind a screen. It couldn't be happening. It couldn't be real.

Scott didn't remember what he'd tried to say to her, only what Allison had said.

" _I don't believe you."_

Rage rose up in his chest at the thought, hot and sudden. Each time Scott forced it down. Why should she have believed him? All Scott had ever done was lie to Allison.

He understood her.

He did.

Didn't he?

He remembered Nora stepping between them and him, her grip on the cattle prod was white knuckled but steady. Scott didn't think she'd looked angry, just bitterly resolved. She wouldn't have known whether or not the prod could have killed Kate, and she hadn't cared.

" _You think you love Scott? Not like I do."_

Scott put his face in his hands, and tried not to think of Nora's face the day before. He'd gotten to frustrated, and he was too tired for that conversation and-

Scott took a breath, trying to halt the thoughts spinning in his hands.

Nora didn't want to understand.

He couldn't make her.

He sat back up, trying to let his hands rest at his sides, to look normal.

But Scott felt like he was still watching Kate Argent climb to her feet and train her gun on his best friend. Nora. Nora who was in the way. Nora who could have stepped aside, who should have- but didn't. He could still hear Kate trying to explain herself to Chris.

" _I did what I was told to do."_

He felt his eyes drifting back towards the cameras and jerked his attention back to his uneaten lunch. Scott tried to force away the Hale House, but it was getting harder and harder. The stench of burning flesh, the whisper of Kate's last words, Allison's mouth on his as the shift faded away.

" _Because I love you."_

She had reeked of blood.

Scott shoved his tray away from him and glanced over at Nora. She was holding onto her friends, her normal life. Was that what made it so hard for her to get why he couldn't just give up Allison? Everyone Scott knew was tangled up in this mess somehow. The threads that bound them to him now bound them to the supernatural corners of Beacon Hills. None of them could get out of this, could they?

Allison's hand brushed against his from the small space between their chairs. He wove his fingers with hers and shut his eyes, trying to drown out everything but the feeling of her heartbeat.

He loved her.

She loved him.

" _You'll lose her anyway."_

No, he couldn't. He wouldn't.

* * *

The sign on the door of Beacon Hills Animal Clinic read closed, but a light was still on inside.

Nora leaned her bike against the fence that lined the parking lot and strode across the shadowed lot. She had watched the Argents come and go, Scott to.

She ignored the pang of guilt in her chest when she thought of Scott. Nora knew she should have been there today, fighting to stop Boyd. Maybe she could have been the one to get through to him, not that she had any idea how.

Nora looked down at her phone and her most recent text from Stiles.

_**just woke up in a dumpster! Why do I bother with this shit?** _

That, Nora was starting to think, was a fair question.

The smell hit her as soon as she shouldered open the door. It was the smell of blood and dead flesh. She was suddenly thrown back into the memory of Derek collapsing in front of her, black blood oozing from his lips.

She'd saved his life here.

That had been a fucking mistake.

Nora stepped into the light of the waiting room, fighting back a gag as she peered down the hall into the examination room.

A man lay dead on the table, the skin on his chest was ripped back, his ribs were bent upwards.

With one hand, Nora braced herself on the counter, with the other she was clutching Catarina's book.

She heard Deaton sigh as he stepped into the doorway, obstructing her view of the dead man, presumably, a hunter.

"You just missed Scott." He said.

Nora raised the book in her hand, feeling grimly satisfied when Deaton's eyes widened in surprise.

_He didn't know I broke in._

"Actually," she said, taking a brisk step closer to the exam room, and the body inside, "I came to see you."

* * *

The Morrissey home's front door finally swung open near midnight.

Sofia jolted up from where she sat, waiting, at the kitchen table. A cold mug of tea sat in front of her. Pete slipped off a bar stool at the island.

Nora didn't have a curfew, she'd never needed one. But this was getting ridiculous.

"You're out late." Sofia said, letting her voice ring through the foyer.

Nora turned and stared at her, her face was unreadable. She leaned benignly in the archway into the kitchen, like this was supposed to be normal teenage behaviour.

Normal, maybe.

Acceptable? Certainly not.

"I know." Nora said.

Sofia felt her mouth fall open and promptly shut it. What kind of answer was that? "I know." She was tempted to banter with her, like they were having fun. This was typical Nora, quick with a smart comment and a sharp smile.

Sofia resisted the urge and glanced over to Pete. He was nothing but hard angles in the dim light of their kitchen. A furrowed brow. His arms folded sternly over his chest. He was angry; Sofia didn't need to be his wife of almost thirteen years to be able to tell.

"Nora, I know we've always given you you're independence, and you still have it, but there's a line." He said, his voice was quiet but it carried.

Nora had that same quality.

It was here that Sofia expected Nora to say something, to do more than stand in a dark hallway and look resigned. It was this that worried her more than anything, the late nights, the rushing out of the door into the blue jeeps she used to claim to hate. Nora had folded into a shadow of herself, and all Sofia could come up with as a fix was implementing a fucking curfew.

It was moments like this, where she wondered if she should be a parent at all.

She looked over at Pete. He was holding Nora's odd gaze with a discipline that Sofia didn't have. She was not the stern parent, the buzzkill, the shrew. She was not any of the things that her own mother was.

Was that a problem?

Was that the problem?

She thought no, and Pete had told her no.

Sofia knew she wasn't Nora's mother, but she had done her best to be. She knew her children well, or at least tried to, and she protected them from everything, as well as she could.

What if she was failing?

"We just want you home when we have dinner." Sofia said, keeping her voice soft. "And for you to be home by ten. It would also be nice if you started coming out with your sisters and I on weekends again."

"And to lunch with the Garcia's after church." Pete added.

Sofia watched Nora, waiting for her to cut in. The lunch with their elderly neighbours was her and Pete's planned compromise. It was Nora's least favourite thing to do, but her face didn't change.

For a brief moment, Sofia considered telling Nora that they were also removing her bedroom door and forcing her to wear ankle length skirts until she graduated from high school.

Would she give a shit about that?

Sofia looked back at Pete, who seemed just as perplexed by their daughter's calm. She wondered if it was genuine or if Pete really wasn't self-aware at all. She wanted to stand up and start gesturing wildly between the two of them shouting, "Statues! Statues! You're both fucking statues!"

"I know better than to ask what's going on, Nora." Sofia huffed, "And we trust you to come to us when you're ready, for now, your father and I have decided that some structure might help."

Something passed over Nora's face, almost too quick for Sofia to catch. But it looked for a moment like she might have laughed, like what Sofia was saying was absurd. Frustration welled in her chest. She was being reasonable. She was reaching out. She was doing the right thing.

Wasn't she?

"Okay." Nora said. Her voice was crisp.

Then in one fluid motion, she tossed the mail onto the breakfast table where Sofia was seated, and turned towards the stairs, an envelope tucked up against her sleeve.

Sofia stared at the space where Nora had just been and felt it like a cold spot in her chest. Maybe she should feel like she'd won, but she didn't. Sofia felt like she'd made rules that Nora was already resigned to break, like she didn't care.

Pete crossed the room and took her hand into his.

"She'll be okay." He said.

Sofia frowned.

That was what Pete always said about Jane.

* * *

_**Nora,** _

_**I can't put into words how happy I am that you don't want to send me an envelope filled with wasps. And I know that is the very least I could ask for.** _

_**I was wondering if I could ask about you. What do you like? What are your friends like? Your sisters? I rarely talk to your father, and when I do, he doesn't like to tell me about them. He's always right that they're not my business. But I think that he'd like to be right in thinking that I don't give a shit, and unfortunately, I do.** _

_**Or if you don't want to tell me any of that yet, what did you do today? Or any day?** _

_**Today I woke up and went jogging. I hated it, but everyone says it's good for you. I'd swim, but I only like to do that in the ocean, and it's not smart to go alone. After that I went to work. I don't hate my job, but it's boring as all hell. I'm a receptionist at a real estate office, and boy oh boy, I could not give a shit about houses.** _

_**I am also thinking about getting a dog, or maybe volunteering at the shelter.** _

_**I turned your dad into a dog person, did you know that?** _

_**With all the love I could hope to give,** _

_**Jane** _

* * *

**Okay, so, I signed up for NaNoWrimo, which basically means I try to write 50 000 words of my novel in the month of November. I'm still not sure if I'm actually going to do it but if I do, I'm going to be focusing my energy on that and not this story. So if I disappear again for a whole ass month, I actually have a reason this time. Sorry about that everyone but I've had this novel idea for about a year now and if I don't force myself to write it, she won't' get written, I'm sure some of you can relate.**

**And per usual, feedback is beyond appreciated and I love you all thanks for the patience :)**


	16. Drowning

**Lol this is long but you guys deserve it for your patience.**

**Chapter Sixteen - Drowning**

* * *

_Deaton leaned against the counter. For a moment his still expression faltered, as a shadow passed over his face. He sighed and when he dragged his eyes back to Nora's, his gaze was heavy, and Nora couldn't help but notice, incredibly sad. She wanted to ask if it was for her, but she doubted it. Nora could recognize what people looked like when they were recalling old pain, something that probably shouldn't still hurt. She could see that, written in the furrowed lines of Deaton's face._

_"You're going to want to lose yourself to this." He said slowly. "You're going to feel like you have to. I made that mistake, and the only advice I have for you is don't."_

_Nora frowned. She's come here to ask questions, to better understand just what the fuck she had done to herself. And all Deaton seemed to be willing to tell her was that she had made a mistake, that stepping into this world, was always a mistake._

_As if Nora didn't already know that._

_"You have to find something, or someone, that can hold you to your life." Deaton continued. "Like an anchor. And when you find it, try not to let it go."_

_"What did you find?" Nora asked._

_Deaton didn't answer._

* * *

 

Nora scraped her fork across her plate. She watched her uneaten breakfast turn cold as her sisters spoke around her. There was a tension in her home now, and Nora wasn't sure if it was her or her parents that had put it there. Or maybe it had always been there, writhing under the surface. Her parents made a point of dragging her into conversation, probing her with empty questions in a way that Nora had never noticed before. Morning conversation with the twins flowed easily through the kitchen. Her additions were of a monotonous few words.

What classes did she have today?

Did she have plans with anyone after school?

It was bizarre, feeling pinned by a conversation she was barely a part of. Overnight Nora had realized she was the elephant in the room, the thing her father and Sofia discussed before bed and the problem they tackled the next morning. Nora didn't know what to do about it, other than her best, which was consistently not enough.

How was she supposed to get home earlier when all of her problems spun out of control when the sun went down? How the hell was she supposed to give a shit about their day to day lives when her daily activities almost always involved trying not to get herself killed?

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and the familiar pressure of anticipation built in her chest as she bent her head down to look at it.

It was just Ben, wishing her a good morning.

Nora let out a small sigh of relief as Sofia cleared her throat.

"Nora, no phones at the table."

For a moment, Nora imagined reaching across the table and smacking the newspaper from her step-mother's hand. But she sat still, a scream lodged in her throat as she shoved her phone back into her pocket and stood up from the table.

"I'm going to be late." She said.

"I'll drive you." Her dad said, shutting the fridge.

Nora turned to him and locked her eyes with his. Rage rolled in her stomach. Her father was looking at her like she was a particularly difficult puzzle, a frustrating nuisance standing in his kitchen demanding to be solved so that he didn't have to think about it anymore.

"Do I need an escort to school now?" She asked bitterly. "Am I banned from biking to?"

She turned on her heel and left the kitchen, a room that was starting to feel more and more like a chess board. Her sister's voices followed her through the foyer as she seized her backpack up from the floor.

"Have a good day!" Marisa called out.

Nora wrenched open the front door and let in swing shut behind her.

In all Goddamn likelihood, she would be doing no such thing.

* * *

When Nora collapsed into seat at the back of her English class, Lydia had already taken her usual seat. They hadn't spoken since the day Lydia returned to school. Nora knew that was her fault, because Lydia was never going to reach out for something, let alone her. But she couldn't help that whenever she saw Lydia, she saw her with another image overlapping whatever mask she was wearing. Nora always saw Lydia, pale and bloody on the field, her dress that she'd so carefully chosen and paired with her shoes, torn to shreds. It didn't make it any easier that Nora couldn't look at Lydia without wondering how she was not only alive, but human. Doubt edged at her mind, like worrying an open wound.

She looked away from Lydia, and set her gaze firmly on the blank blackboard.

Lydia scoffed.

"Oh, were we thinking about feeling talkative today?" She asked, her voice her familiar biting lilt.

Nora slowly turned towards her. She let her gaze slide over the other girl quickly, efficiently. There was more makeup under her eyes than usual, and her lip liner was overdone, as if to draw the eye away from something, and she was wearing white victorian-esque gloves.

"I know you're the school's trendsetter, but I don't think 17th century protestant housewife is gonna kick in."

Lydia's face darkened and she folded her hands into her lap.

"You know, I'm not sure you're in a position to comment on my taste."

She promptly turned to face the front of the room, sending a curtain of red hair to flick dramatically over her shoulder. Nora gaped at her. Half wanting to scream obscenities at Lydia, that maybe she couldn't always look her best, but at least she didn't feel like she had to hide every human part of herself from the world.

Rage buzzed in her ears as she flicked open her notebook.

Lydia always wore as mask, and as long as the thing that lurked underneath wasn't a murderous lizard, Nora didn't think she needed to care.

* * *

Stiles wasn't sure how he and Nora had ended up playing messenger for Scott and Allison, but it he was annoyed by it, Nora was livid. She would stride to Scott's side, where Stiles could only guess she was coldly ignoring any attempt he might be making at patching things up with her and then storming through the hallways to get to him, and then he would sprint to the courtyard to Allison.

It was exhausting, and stupid. Though Stiles couldn't think of anything better he could be doing, he was sure there had to be something.

Nora burst through the doors exiting the back stairwell and nodded.

"Great." Stiles said with a shrug. "We have a plan to steal the stupid book."

"Now what?" Nora said flatly, finishing his thought and letting herself fall backwards to lean against the wall. "I don't fucking know, and frankly-"

"Don't." Stiles sighed, cutting her off.

He kept his eyes on the window, and the empty lacrosse field outside, instead of turning to look at Nora. He could picture her face; her eyebrows raised incredulously, pale eyes daring him to keep going.

"We can't not care." He said.

A long moment of silence stretched out between them, and Stiles couldn't keep staring out at the field and the woods beyond. He'd always been pretty indifferent towards the tree line, now it made his skin crawl.

Stiles turned back to Nora, to find her two-toned gaze was still on him, but it was void of her practiced irritation. In fact, it was empty of pretty much anything.

That, Stiles discovered, was so much fucking worse.

"Are you sure about that?" Nora asked. Her voice was small, barely more than a whisper.

Stiles opened his mouth to speak, but any words had dried up in his throat. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and close the distance between them. To pull Nora close, her face pressed into his shoulder and his arms tight around her, like he had countless times before. He was Stiles, her best-friend, and he always had a plan. He was sure of things, or at least, he was half-sure. Stiles used to know how to help Nora, how to be there for her. Now, sometimes Stiles felt like he couldn't even look at her right.

So he didn't move, and let his silence dangle over them like a spider from its web.

"We'll find this thing." Stiles spat out. "And then-"

"We'll set it on fire?" Nora offered sharply. "Or maybe this time, we can get creative and drown it. Shake things up a bit."

She sighed, and Stiles bit back the urge to correct her.

Them.

There was a person underneath the scales, maybe even someone they knew.

"You know what?" He snapped. "We have a plan for tonight, and that's all we get, so if you want to go home and be angry, fine. But I can't stop giving a shit, I can't just walk away."

Stiles watched Nora turn his words over in her head as he held her gaze. She was a mirror to him. Every ounce of rage and frustration that Stiles didn't know what the fuck to do with, he could see reflected back at him in Nora's eyes. He wanted to scream, because this was all they did now, get furious with the whole goddamn world and take it on each other. It was always just the two of them, freaking out in a hallway, trying to fix everything without any idea how.

Nora opened her mouth to speak, and Stiles didn't want to hear whatever cutting thing she'd come up with. He didn't want to fight with her. A lot of the time, all he felt like he had was Nora, and yet all they ever did was pick at each other's wounds.

"Do you really fucking think that-"

"Do think Gerard would hurt us?" Stiles cut her off, letting the selfish question that had been spinning around in his head for days slip out of his mouth.

Nora gaped at him, the fury in her eyes disappearing as quickly as it had come. She let out a breath of laughter.

"You weren't there when Kate Argent was pointing a gun at my face, were you?" Nora said.

Her words felt like a punch in the stomach. Not because he didn't know that Kate had threatened her and Scott, but because of how casual she said it. Like it was an almost normal for her to have had a gun pointed at her. Stiles felt some small thing in his chest shatter with the realization.

They were so screwed.

"Stiles." Nora continued. "She said she did what she was told to do when she burned down the Hale House. Who do you think told her to do it?" She ran a trembling hand through her hair. Her voice was thin, like speaking was taking the breath out of her lungs. "I mean, there were children in that house, human children, and you're asking me if I think Gerard would hurt us? I-" She cut herself off, and took a long stuttering breath. "Stiles, have you ever been sure you were going to die?"

Stiles didn't think he needed to answer that, because Nora knew him well enough to know the answer was no. He took a small step towards her, not sure of anything except wanting to make her not afraid somehow. She waved him off, and Stiles let himself freeze where he was, just an arm's length away from her. The bell split the air between them. Nora jumped, throwing her one hand over her mouth as she braced herself against the wall with the other. Stiles felt his eyes start to burn.

"Nora-"

She straightened up and cut him off with a heavy look.

"I'll see you at the game Stiles."

He watched Nora turn and disappear down the hallway, blending into the crowds of students moving between classes like she hadn't just been on the verge of tears, asking him if he'd ever thought he was going to die. Stiles ran his hands over his face to stop himself from driving a fist in the cinderblock.

* * *

Nora paced the shadowed hallway outside of Gerard's office, trying to ignore the din of the lacrosse game. Part of her felt like she should be out there with Mei, Halle and Ben, cheering on Scott, being normal. But that part of her, the part that wanted to be normal, that felt like normal was the right thing for her to be, was falling away under the now almost familiar thrum in her body. She'd done something permanent, opened a door that Nora didn't know how to close.

She hated it, but Nora didn't see a way out.

She scoffed, letting the sound echo through the empty hallway. She pulled up the sleeve of her jacket and checked her watch. It was just after eight. Nora knew she and Stiles had plenty of time to search the office, but she couldn't mess up the first night of her stupid curfew.

Stiles burst through the doors, twirling the stolen keys in his hand. He glanced back over his shoulder as he strode towards her.

"Did someone follow you?" She asked.

Stiles shook his head and shoved the keys into the lock, fumbling with them.

"Stiles, what is it?" She pressed.

The door swung open, and Stiles stood still in the doorway, as if he was teetering on the edge of something. Nora pushed past him into the office. They didn't have time for this.

"Lydia's in her car." He said. "She's crying, I said I'd come back."

Nora's breath caught in her chest as she yanked open one of Gerard's draws, and Stiles did the same on the other side of the desk.

"Good." She said. "Something's up with her."

The next few minutes passed in shifting silence as they rifled through Gerard's office, Stiles muttering "book" under his breath. Nora slammed a cupboard drawer shut and let herself fall out of her painful crouch and onto the floor.

"I don't know why we thought he'd keep it in here." She said. "People break in constantly."

"I hear it's usually to hook up." Came a cool voice from the doorway.

Nora shot to her feet as Stiles whipped around. Erica was standing in the doorway with a grin that was for more reminiscent of a snarl than a smile.

"Hello Stiles." She said. "Nora."

"Shit." Nora sighed.

Erica seized them both by the arm and started leading them down the shadowed halls, Stiles protesting the whole time. Nora tried to search herself for the will to give any semblance of a shit about whatever Derek had to say to them, but she couldn't find it.

_Let him threaten me. Might spice up the day._

Erica shoved them through the doors into the pool, lit only by the lights lining the bottom of it. The water glittered, casting reflections onto the walls and ceiling. This was one of her favourite places in Beacon Hills, and Derek Hale just had to temper her enjoyment of it, didn't he?

"Stiles." Derek said, holding a basketball in his hand. "What'd you see at the mechanics garage?"

Nora frowned and rubbed her arm where Erica had been gripping it. She didn't even have to be here. Whatever this creature was, Nora had never actually seen it.

"Uh, several alarming EPA violations that I'm seriously considering reporting." Stiles told him.

Erica scoffed while Derek drove his claws into the basketball, and crushed it in his hands.

"Holy God." Stiles sighed.

"Let's try that again." Derek said.

Nora folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

"I'm I supposed to feel threatened by you two?" She asked, quirking a brow at Derek. "For fucks sake, I mean Erica, tie your hair up and lose the heels. Derek, get a t-shirt that fits."

Nora felt Stiles gaping at her as she turned and began to stride for the door. She didn't get more than a few feet before Erica's manicured hand seized her arm again and spun her around, this time with enough force to send her to the floor. Nora landed hard on her back, and the breath rushed out of her lungs. She lay there for a moment as Stiles yelled something at one of them, but Nora could barely hear anything over the rush inside of her head. She drove her foot into Erica's knee, sending the other girl into a crouch with a dramatic gasp. Nora stood up and glowered at Derek.

"You know, I think we know each other well enough by now for you to feel comfortable physically assaulting me yourself damn self."

Derek's expression went from cool to stony, and Stiles swore under his breath. But Erica didn't reach for her again, and stood back up, somewhat sheepishly, at Derek's side.

"Alright." Stiles said, shooting Nora an incredulous look. "The thing was pretty slick looking, um; its skin was dark, kind of patterned. I think I actually saw scales. Is that enough?" He watched Erica and Derek, waiting for a reaction. "Okay? Because I have somebody I really need to talk to."

Guilt swelled in Nora's chest. She had forgotten about Lydia.

Stiles groaned as Derek and Erica continued to stare at him.

"Alright, fine. Eyes. Eyes are uh, yellowish, and slittled. It has a lot of teeth."

Nora glanced down at her watched, grimacing as the minutes ticked closer to nine.

"And it's got a tail, too." Stiles added. "Are we good?"

Nora felt something shift in the pulse under her skin, inside of her head. Her heartbeat sped up, and the hair on the back of her neck rose. She got the distinct feeling that they were not "good."

She watched as Erica and Derek's eyes rose to the mezzanine behind them. Erica wore a very distinct expression of horror.

_Are you kidding me?_

Nora really didn't feel like getting ripped to shreds but a massive gecko.

"What?" Stiles pressed. "Have you seen it? You have this look on your faces like you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Nora sighed, seized Stiles arm and turned him around. Nora's stomach rolled when she saw it. Its whole body looked wet. Its mouth was a black hole.

The creature screeched and leapt down onto the deck. Nora and Stiles reeled back as Derek dropped into a crouch and roared. Erica lunged for it. The thing tossed her aside and into the wall as if she weighed nothing.

Derek turned and shoved Stiles back.

"Run!" He shouted as the creature's claws grazed the back of Derek's neck.

"Derek, your neck." Stiles said.

Derek raised his hand to the small cut as his legs collapsed under him. Stiles raced forward and caught him as the creature stepped back, it tail twitching, watching them. Stiles tried to support Derek and half-carry him along the pool deck. Nora's heart hammered in her throat as she wrestled her phone out of her pocket. She didn't know if the game was still on, but it she could manage to leave Scott a message, surely he would come.

Right?

"Call Scott." Derek shouted.

"Yeah I-" Nora began as pain bloomed across her the back of her neck. "Shit!" She screamed.

She watched as Stiles' phone tumbled from his hand. Nora crumbled to the floor with a shudder, reaching for her own cell phone as it skittered away from her across the deck.

"Nora!" Stiles shouted, turning to face her.

Derek stumbled over him, tumbling headfirst into the pool.

Stiles froze, and his eyes darted frantically between her, his cell phone, and Derek's sinking body. He dove into the pool.

Nora's eyes started to burn as the rest of her feeling left her body. The slick tile of the pool deck bit into the side of her face, and she knew there was cool water seeping into her clothes. If a sob could wrack her still body, Nora was sure it would.

_Fuck._

"Fuck!"

Stiles and Derek broke the surface, searching for the creature. Nora lifted and turned her head as much as she could, trying to scan the concrete beams above them. Her head pulsed and spun, and her stomach was rolling. She wanted to throw up. She didn't know if it was the panic or the venom seizing her body, but regardless, something was very wrong.

"Maybe it took off." Stiles said, half breathless.

An inhuman screech echoed through the room.

"Maybe not." Derek said.

* * *

The creature paced the deck, gingerly stepping over Nora's body as it did. Each time, its tail brushed her face. Her throat was hoarse from screaming at it, demanding it to get the hell away from her as if it would listen, as if it could understand what she was saying. And she couldn't look away from Stiles and Derek, helpless in the pool, even if she wanted to. The panic that had been writhing in her chest had settled into rage. The one thing Nora was good at, that she knew she could do, was swim, and right now she couldn't even do that.

The creature stepped over her again, its moist tail sliding over her face.

"I swear to God I am going to kill this thing!" She shouted.

"Sounds like a plan." Stiles said to her, his voice was thin with exertion.

A fresh wave of panic rolled through her body. She wasn't about to watch him drown. Nora tried to force movement into her fingers or toes or any place at all, but all she felt was dead weight.

_How symbolic._

What if this was permanent?

Nora chased the thought from her head. Stiles had been paralyzed, and now he was fine. She was going to be fine, maybe in a few minutes, maybe in a few hours.

She listened as Stiles sputtered, spitting out some water he'd swallowed.

Nora needed to be fine now.

The creature hissed and reeled away from the pool deck. Nora knew that it had stumbled over her as it had lurched back, but she hadn't felt it. Her body might as well as not have been hers.

"Did you see that?" Stiles asked, something eager rose in his voice. "I don't think it can swim."

Nora didn't want to point out that that didn't change that they were still stuck in the pool. Because even if the creature couldn't swim, it could sure as hell walk. But she said nothing, and watched the gears start to spin behind Stiles' eyes. He was coming up with some kind of plan, and the thought should have comforted Nora, but all she felt was dread.

"Okay." Stiles said, forcing the words out. "I don't think I can do this much longer."

He was right. Nora knew he was right. But she couldn't let him believe that, could she?

"Stiles, you're fine." Nora said steadily. "Just keep breathing."

He shot her a sour look and started to swim for the side of the pool where his phone lay on the concrete.

"No, no, no!" Derek shouted. "Don't even think about it."

"Could you just trust me this once?" Stiles implored.

"No!" Derek said.

Nora fought the urge to scream at Derek. It wouldn't help, she knew that. But she really, really wanted to. Needed to, even, to make her feel like she was at least doing something.

"I'm the one keeping you alive, okay?" Stiles snapped. "Have you noticed that?"

"Yeah." Derek huffed. "And when the paralysis wears off who's gonna be able to fight that thing, you or me?"

"So that's why I've been holding you up the past two hours?"

"You don't trust me. I don't trust you." Derek continued. "But you need me to survive, which is why you're not letting me go."

Stiles looked over to Nora, a question in his eyes. For a long moment she held his gaze, not sure what he wanted from her. Did they need Derek? Probably, but Nora wasn't going to ask Stiles to give himself up for him.

"Stiles." She said slowly. "I trust you."

She watched, unsurprised as Stiles shoved Derek away from him and ignored Derek's furious shout of his name. Her heart slammed against her ribs as Stiles swam for the side and seized his phone. The creature screamed but Stiles was already out of its reach. Relief swelled in her chest.

Stiles swam, holding his phone out of the water, back over to where Derek had sank.

"Scott!" He shouted into his phone.

Nora didn't know what Scott had said, if anything. But she felt something in her chest crack as Stiles stared helplessly at his phone before tossing it aside and diving back down for Derek.

Scott had hung up on him.

So they were on their fucking own.

Stiles and Derek broke the surface again, each of them gasping for breath.

"Did he hang up on you?" Nora called over to Stiles, hating how pitiful her voice sounded.

Stiles said nothing, but the dejected look on his face said enough.

Nora let out another scream of frustration.

She couldn't just lay useless in a puddle. She had to do something, anything.

"Nora, we're gonna be fine." Stiles said, spitting out the words between laboured breaths.

"No." She said. "We're not."

She met Stiles' eyes across the pool, and let her gaze shift to Derek.

"And I'm sick of pretending we're going to be." She continued.

She let her head collapse back onto the cool concrete, and the creature continued its relentless pace around the deck. The current buzzed in her ears, growing louder with each passing minute she spent like this, frozen on the floor. It was all she could hear, that and Stiles' stuttering breath.

She needed it to stop.

She just wanted it to fucking stop.

The creature stepped over her again, its tail slithering across the side of her face.

She was nothing to it, nothing close to a threat anyway.

Nora took a breath, and pressed her face harder into the deck, desperate for any sort of sensation. She leaned into the feelings, the cool water against her skin, her damp hair tangled around her face. The hammering of her heart faded away under the pulse of this other thing.

Nora was more than this. She was more than a girl lying helpless on a pool deck. Than Scott's friend who needed protecting. Than each creature that had put her in this Goddamn position.

She eyed her phone. It was barely a few feet away from her.

Nora was going to reach out and grab it or she was going to scream until someone heard her or until her vocal chords snapped.

There, she could make plans too.

Her hand, frozen where it had fallen, reaching out for her stupid phone, twitched and then relaxed. Nora flexed her fingers as her other arm came to life, twisted uncomfortably beneath her body. All she could feel was pins and needles, shooting from the base of her spine into her shoulders and down her arms. It was almost agony.

But Nora didn't care.

She pushed herself up and looked back at the creature. It was across the pool from her, and for a moment it was frozen in what Nora imagined was the closest thing it could feel to disbelief.

Her legs were still dead.

"Derek, can you move?" Stiles asked, his quiet voice echoing through the room.

"No." Derek said, his voice was dull with shock.

Nora didn't turn to look at them, and instead pulled herself towards her cell phone. She could hear the creature as it skittered across the deck, its claws clicking on the slick tiles.

Derek shouted her name.

Nora reeled around and caught only a glimpse of the thing before she threw her arm over her head in a futile effort to protect herself. She squeezed her eyes shut. The pulse in her head swelled and roared until it was just white noise. She waited for her body to go dead again. Something shattered.

"Okay, what the hell?" Stiles said.

Nora opened her eyes. As the far end of the deck the creature was dazed, sprawled amongst shards of broken glass.

She could hear Stiles and Derek shouting, but Nora tuned them out. She almost smiled.

Whatever she had done.

It might actually be able to help.

Nora scrambled for her phone and dialed Scott, panic and rage swirling in her head as she did. Pins and needles shot up and down her stiff legs. Her eyes burned.

"I'm still at the Argent's-" Scott said.

Nora almost cried at the sound of his voice.

"Scott-"

The line went dead.

She heard the click of the creature's claws against the pool deck, and Nora didn't know what she did to fling it across the room, or if she could repeat it.

With a sigh, Nora rolled off of the deck and into the water.

For a moment, she sank. The dark ceiling drifted away from her as she stared up at it, chlorine burning her eyes. The creature's face swam above her, as it gazed down from the deck.

Her legs felt like they were tangled in something, the water itself. Her head spun with the sudden silence of being submerged.

It was almost calm.

Something moved in the corner of her eye. She turned, her neck aching.

It was Stiles' thrashing legs.

Panic seized her.

If she drowned, that would be a cruel fucking joke.

Nora fought to the surface, shedding her jacket and shoes as she did.

"Get out!" Nora shouted as she broke the surface, swimming for the far end of the pool that was lined with dive blocks.

Stiles and Derek were shouting at her, but Nora ignored them. She grabbed a dive block and hoisted herself out of the pool and sprinted for the lifeguard's office, praying it wasn't locked.

She wrenched the door open and slammed it shut behind her. There was a loud thud as the creature slammed into the frail wooden door. Nora frantically looked around for some semblance of a weapon, and yanked a fire extinguisher off of the wall. The clock in the corner caught her eye, it was almost eleven.

Nora let out a bitter huff of laughter.

She turned back to the creature to find that it was stopped, staring in at her. Nora frowned, and the creature cocked its head. It wasn't looking at her, it was looking at itself.

The thing turned as Stiles splashed towards the side of the pool. Nora dove for the fire alarm, yanking it down.

The sound was earsplitting, but it was the water she wanted. It rained down from the sprinklers, shaking the creature from its place outside of the window. It let out a furious screech and skittered away.

Nora dropped the fire extinguisher and ran for the side of the pool as Stiles' hand slipped off of the dive block he was clutching. She dropped to her knees and seized his outstretched arm, hauling him to the surface.

They were silent as they helped Derek out of the pool, the feeling finally crawling back into his limbs. Nora collapsed onto the deck, catching her breath as Stiles and Derek did the same.

"What did you-" Stiles started. "What did you do?"

Nora just shushed him.

The pools doors swung open, and Nora threw herself to her feet as the alarm cut and sprinklers died. It was just Scott.

"You're late." Was all she could bring herself to say.

* * *

Derek crossed the parking lot, Erica trudging behind him, finally back on her feet. Scott and Stiles were bent over a laptop, Nora was standing a few feet away from them, trying to comb out her hair with her fingers. Something tightened in Derek's chest. Whatever Nora had done to herself, he couldn't help but feel a little responsible.

Hadn't he told them this would all end?

In a lot of ways, hadn't he made everything worse?

Derek tried to force the thoughts away, but they would keep circling back. He'd be dead without her, and Stiles.

Again.

_"You're a monster."_

Nora's voice was still as clear as a bell in his head like she'd just said it. She was right, Derek knew that, but it was different to hear what he thought about himself spat out of another person's mouth.

"How are we supposed to figure out what this thing is?" Scott said, angrily scrolling through the Gerard Argent's beastiary.

"It's called a Kanima." Derek said.

The three teenagers turned to him. Stiles was gaping, Nora's face was blank. Scott looked like he always did, lost.

"You knew the whole time." Stiles said, anger edging at his voice.

"Shocker." Nora said flatly.

"No." Derek said. "Only when it was confused by its own reflection."

He recalled the moment when the Kanima was crouched outside of the lifeguard's office, and for a second he would have sworn it was Nora that was staring it down.

Now, Derek wouldn't be able to put it past her.

The thought left him feeling a little sick.

"It doesn't know what it is." Scott said.

"Or who." Derek added with a nod.

"Well, what else do you know?" Stiles asked him, exasperated.

"Just stories." He said. "Rumors."

"Well, are you in a sharing mood or is this information you'd like to drop the next time we're all in peril?" Nora said, her voice was as sharp as a knife.

If Derek was sure Stiles didn't trust him, he didn't know if he could name whatever it was Nora felt. Hatred might be close.

"But it's like us?" Scott pressed, ignoring Nora's comment.

She stared furiously at the back of his head.

"A shapeshifter, yes. But it's-" He cut himself off, trying to find the words. The Kanima wasn't like them, it was lost, to itself, and to everyone it could be close to. Werewolves weren't supposed to be like that.

Though, Derek thought bitterly, some were.

"It's not right." He continued. "It's like a-"

"An abomination?" Stiles offered.

_"You're a monster."_

Nora rolled her eyes as Derek nodded.

"I don't care what it is." She said. "I want it dead."

Stiles cringed, and Scott turned around to face her. Derek took it as his moment to leave, but Scott called after him.

"We need to work together on this." He said. "Maybe even tell the Argents."

"You trust them?" Derek asked him, incredulous.

Sometimes he wondered what exactly Scott remembered about the night at his old home, if he hadn't quite healed right from a hit to the head.

"Nobody trusts anyone!" He said. "That's the problem." His voice was insistent. "While we're here arguing about who's on what side there's something scarier, stronger and faster than any of us and it's killing people! And we still don't even know anything about it!"

Nora let out a bark of laughter before Derek could tell Scott exactly what he thought about working with the Argents. He'd rather die.

"Scott, I'm trying to figure out if I can still trust you, and you want to ask us to trust the Argents?" She said, her voice was brittle and high. "What are you smoking? Or actually, what the hell do you think I'm smoking?"

"What?" Scott said, half turning to he could glance between them two of them.

Stiles let out a sigh but said nothing. Nora took a step forward.

"You were with Allison while Stiles was drowning in a fucking pool!" She shouted.

"We were looking for the beastiary!" Scott shouted back.

"You hung up on us!" Nora snapped, her voice was raw. "We needed you and you hung up us!"

Scott opened his mouth to defend himself, his heartbeat was racing, but Stiles cut in.

"Guys!" She stepped between them, clearly searching both of their faces for something he could work with. But all Derek could see on Nora was fury. "Nora, what's he going to do? Answer is phone when he's next to Gerard, like 'oh hey Stiles, how's keeping Derek alive going?"

Nora blanched. She looked at Stiles like he'd just slapped her across the face. The rage drained out of her expression.

"Don't act like you're not pissed to, Stiles! He should have been with us! Not her!"

"We need Allison." Scott said.

"No Scott. We need you." She said in a deadly calm that unnerved Derek more than almost anything he'd seen tonight.

It was bizarre, because despite how little he understood about Kanimas, Derek knew even less about what Nora might have made herself capable of. Things like him, and the Kanima, had a lot of rules they followed. People who found the line between the natural and supernatural and crossed it, in Derek's experience, didn't have to bend to much.

The silence held, and Derek wanted to look away from the three of them. He wanted to ignore how torn Stiles looked, the helplessness on Scott's face, and the rage on Nora's. It rolled off of her like a palpable heat. Derek wanted to pretend that they were stupid teenagers, and that they were arguing over something stupid, that they were wasting his time. But they weren't, and he had been part of making that happen.

Erica shifted her weight next to him.

Three other stupid teenagers he had on his conscious.

How the hell had he let this happen?

"Enough." He said. "I know one thing, when I find it," he turned away from them. "I'm gonna kill it."

Nora scoffed. "Finally, some sense, and in the most unlikely place."

_"You're a monster."_

* * *

**Hey everyone! So, where the FUCK have I been? Well, the past 2 ½ months have been pretty difficult for me in the mental health department, which I think kind of happens to everyone in October-November. My plan is to try and recuperate as best I can over Christmas break (lol I'm gonna be so weirdly busy it SUCKS) and get my shit back together in the New Year. I am still dedicated to this story so don't worry. I've just been having a bit of a Time this fall, but things are looking up (kind of), I'm looking up, the rest of my life is the Fucking Same. I get to be in the unfortunate position of trying really hard to be happy and healthy while still surrounded by absolute chaos in the form of my family, which is like :/. HOWEVER, I knew 2018 was gonna be full of the ups and downs of recovery and this fall especially I have come to terms with a lot of things in regards to how like dealing with all your trauma is gonna be slow and arduous, but in general, this year has been pretty good. And 2019 is a year for PROSPERITY FOLKS! I am speaking that shit into the fucking universe, so have a happy holiday season, I'll see you all in the New Year, let's get this bread!**

**And as always all of your continued support and feedback is unbelievably appreciated, thank you all forever.**


	17. Bloodied Teeth

**I finished this like over a week ago, but since i'd finished it I thought I had posted it but it turns out i'm just an idiot.**

**Chapter Seventeen - Bloodied Teeth**

* * *

By the time Stiles' jeep pulled up in front of Nora's house, she was bone dry. Nora wasn't sure how it had happened, but all that was left her time in the pool was the clinging scent of chlorine. Stiles was still dripping wet, and had been silent the whole drive. Nora wanted to reach out to him somehow, to find a better place between friends and trying to convince herself that she hated him, it was still hard, to want to be what they were before. Nora had loved Stiles differently than she did now, but it wasn't all gone. Her heart still swelled in her chest when she looked at him, with the memory of love, of being his best friend.

What the hell was she now?

Nora turned and reached for the door handle. Stiles sighed. She spared a glance back at him.

"Nora, you've gotta give Scott a break." He said. "Please."

Nora's breathe seized in her chest.

That wasn't what she thought Stiles was going to say.

She was thinking he'd go with something along the lines of, "What the hell have you done to yourself?" "Thanks for risking your life for everyone, again." "Holy shit I almost died and I don't think I've ever apologized to you properly."

Whatever warm and tender thing that had wrapped itself around Nora's heart promptly died, and a cold anger crawled into its place.

"It's not like we get one." She said, her voice as chilled and dead as the thing in her chest.

Without another look back Nora slipped out of the jeep and trudged into her home. She could see her parent's silhouettes in the kitchen from outside. She braced herself as she opened her front door.

_Here we go._

She'd never been in any serious trouble with them.

Ever.

But there was a first time for everything.

"You are over an hour late." Sofia said, looking severe despite her floral patterned pajamas.

Nora stood in the archway into the kitchen, searching for the energy to defend or explain herself, for even the desire to do it.

She came up empty.

"Well," she shrugged, "at least give me a day to used to this bullshit."

Sofia narrowed her eyes, they deemed darker than the night outside.

"Nora." She warned. "Language."

Nora glanced at her father. He stood like a statue behind the kitchen island. His gaze was focused on a picture stuck to the fridge, a magnet carefully positioned over the face of one of the people in the photo. It was a picture of Nora's first family, when it was just her and her unhappy father and drug-addicted mother. The picture was a sunny, smiling lie, but Sofia liked it of the two of them, Nora and Pete. So Nora's mother lived in their lives hidden under a fridge magnet, buried in boxes of old clothes and cards, and in handwritten letters smuggled from the mailbox.

Something reeled and snapped in Nora as saw how much she and her mother look alike, how much they must seem alike to her dad.

"Language?" She looked back at Sofia. "Seriously? I've been swearing since I was eleven and now you care about my language? Now you care about my curfew? Now you care about how much time I spend putting up with the twins, or with you two? What the hell did I do?"

The words fell out of her mouth, hot and bitter. Sofia gaped at her.

"Eight pm." Her father said, finally bringing his eyes away from the photo to look at her.

There was a grim resolution in his expression that Nora recognized. She'd seen it in the mirror when she told herself she and Stiles were done, that she would have to lose Scott to because of it.

He was looking at her the way he looked at pictures of Jane, and it felt like a knife to the gut.

"Why are you looking at me like I'm my mother?"

Her father's face faltered.

"Nora-" He began, but she cut him off with a scoff.

"You've been waiting for it, haven't you?" She curled and uncurled her hands at her sides. "For some weird reason to write me off because I'm the stupid, frustrating part of your life that you can't fix. You'll never look at Isabella or Marisa like that. They aren't the mistake you made in your early twenties. They aren't the bad first marriage that won't leave you alone."

Nora let the words rattle off of her tongue without much thought. She hated the way she sounded, like some desperate, broken sixteen-year-old. But that's exactly what she was, wasn't she? Just sixteen, clawing at the bizarre threads of her life, looking for something that didn't hurt.

The stairs creaked.

"Nora, go upstairs." Sofia said sternly. "We can finish this in the morning."

Her eyes flicked to her husband, and she gave him a dark look.

Nora felt her thoughts spinning in her head. She wasn't done. She wasn't going to go upstairs and pretend everything was fine in the morning.

"No, I'm talking." Nora snapped. "I lived with her when you left to start a new family. I called an ambulance when she went too far. You left mom, and you thought about leaving me. So don't start with this 'eight pm' bullshit!"

"Nora, that's enough!" He shouted. Nora couldn't remember the last time he'd raised his voice. "You lived with your aunt while I got settled here, and you knew I was going to move you up here with us. Don't twist things into something they aren't, don't turn me into something I'm not! That's what your mother did!" He took a sharp breath. "Go upstairs."

"Pete-" Sofia started, but Nora turned on her heel and stormed up away before hearing her finish.

She pushed past her younger sisters, brought out of bed by the shouting. Nora ignored Marisa as she said her name and flew into her room, collapsing against her door as she slammed it behind her.

The candle on her dresser flickered to life.

With one harsh look, Nora snuffed it out.

* * *

The next morning, Nora ate a protein bar for breakfast and slipped out of her home through her bedroom window.

There was a lightness to her steps that she knew should worry her as she strode down her street. Ben's car pulled up next to her.

He had sounded confused when she'd asked him to come and pick her up, but he'd come anyway. And with a nervous glance back at her house, Nora climbed into the passenger seat.

Ben turned to speak to her, but without much thought or any reservation, Nora kissed him.

It wasn't the first time she'd done it, but it was the first time she'd done it like it might become a normal thing for them to do. They could be that couple that drove to school together, held hands at lunch, shared an exasperated glance when someone nearby was being idiotic. Everything Nora had ever wanted, she could have with Ben, she wanted with Ben.

There was a knot in her chest at the thought, a nagging voice in the back of her head telling her that she was going to do this wrong, that the timing wasn't right.

She pulled away from him, and Ben's smile widened as he turned back to the road, blue eyes intent.

"Well, you're freaking chipper."

"I slept well." Nora lied.

But her brightened mood wasn't faked. She was never going to be the perfect daughter, or the perfect sister. She stood out as strangely in her own household as she did almost everywhere else. Nora was well liked, almost popular, but she knew she wasn't always easy to stomach. And it seemed like the only people who were obligated to, her family, couldn't do it.

" _Don't twist things into something they aren't, don't turn me into something I'm not!"_

Nora didn't remember a time when she had argued with the truth, let alone with her father. But whatever, he hadn't been looking at her like she was his child. Last night, she'd only been Jane's.

Fine.

Nora had more important things to put her mind to. She could be a better almost-girlfriend, or whatever it was she was to Ben. She could put more energy into making Scott see sense. Maybe she'd be able to look at Stiles without a pinch in her chest.

After all, so far Nora was the only to win a fight with the kanima. Why should she have to take bullshit from anyone, no matter who they were?

She knew that her feeling of strength, of confidence, wouldn't last. Maybe it wouldn't even make it through the day. Something would knock her down again, someone else would point a gun at her, remind her that in her blood and bones she was still human. But until then, Nora could smile on her way to school for the first time in weeks.

It was bizarre, the thing that managed to make her feel lighter.

So maybe her father didn't want to look at her.

Right now, Nora thought bitterly, that suited her needs perfectly.

* * *

Stiles watched Scott stride down the hall away from him, his words still ringing in his head.

The kanima wouldn't stop trying to kill him until it did.

Great.

He turned down the hall where Nora's locker was. She was standing with Mei and Halle, her two closest friends cast him irritated looks as he came over to them, but slipped away as the first bell rang.

"We have a problem." Stiles spat out.

Nora quirked a brow.

"Oh, really? What is it?"

It took everything Stiles had not to snap at her, not because he wanted to, or because she did anything to deserve it, but because he was about three more fucking problems from snapping himself.

"Isaac and Erica are going to try and kill Lydia." He said.

Nora balked at him and slammed her locker shut.

"What?" Her voice was low, carrying only across the small space between then. "When?"

Stiles didn't remark that Nora neglected to ask why.

He didn't think she could be the kanima, really. He didn't. He really didn't.

But the possibility existed.

But so did the possibility that he could win the lottery or bench press his jeep.

"I don't know."

For long moment Nora stood still, letting what he'd told her settle in. Maybe she was wondering why he'd come to her, what he expected her to do. The truth was Stiles didn't want anything from Nora, not really. What could either of them do?

Well, if last night was any indication, Nora could do a lot more than she was letting on.

But Stiles couldn't stomach thinking about that. Not now.

Maybe part of him still hoped she was would be there for him like she always was before. Nora would have an answer. Nora would know what to say.

She let out a long sigh.

"Shit."

Stiles found himself letting out a low huff of laughter.

"Yeah."

What had she said last night? That they never got a break?

Stiles watched someone come up behind Nora. It was Ben.

"Hey." He said, looping his arm over her shoulder without much thought.

Stiles waited for Nora to stiffen, to frown, to make any kind of indication that he was intruding.

On what? Intruding on them? There was nothing to interrupt, not that Ben would know about.

Nora leaned back against him. Stiles wanted a place to put his anger, and considered for a moment that Ben could work. His ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend. But he couldn't. Ben was the least offensive person he could imagine Nora falling for. They even looked like they should be a couple. Nora: small, blonde. Ben: tall, dark. Worse was that he was regarding Nora with an intent that Stiles knew he never did, at least not when they were dating. Ben clearly had some idea of what he had to lose.

Ben planted a kiss on Nora's temple and strode away. Stiles realized he'd gaped out of their conversation without saying anything. Ben gave him a quick smile as he said an obligatory "see you later". Stiles had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He couldn't think of when he'd next be at the same place as Ben Walsh.

If he and Nora hadn't latched onto each other when they were kids, Stiles doubted they'd be friends now.

He watched Nora's eyes follow Ben as he left; the small smile that had grown on her face while he was there had gone. Something in Stiles' chest twisted.

Shouldn't she be happy?

"What?" He asked without thinking.

Nora looked back at him, her pale eyes were shining. She shrugged.

"How am I supposed to be with someone I can't be honest with?"

Stiles waited for the inevitable follow up, the knife forever drove into his chest. He waited for Nora to say, "You know, like you did." He waited for her usual pointed glare, the remnant of a rift between them that would never really heal, that probably never should. But none of it came. Nora just stuck him with an expectant look, reminding Stiles that all the times in his life Nora had been there for him, he'd done his best to do the same for her.

_Fuck._

"You'll figure it out. And if he really likes you then-"

"Then what? It won't matter?" Nora cut him off, her voice was brittle. "That's not how things work. You know that. People deserve honesty; they deserve someone they can trust."

" _You know that."_

Stiles ran his hand over his face.

"This is going to end." He said, feeling his words fall flat as soon as they were out of his mouth. "It has to, this can't go on forever."

Nora's mouth was twisted into a grimace.

"Doesn't this feel permanent to you?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "Do you really think that once we- if we figure everything out with Argents, and the Kanima, that something else won't crawl out of the fucking forest to make our lives hell?"

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the bell cut through the air.

Nora leaned back against the bank of lockers, as if she wished she could disappear into them.

"Nora-"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"Go." She said. "You have chem."

* * *

Nora wondered how Lydia would feel if she knew she'd just failed the most important test she'd ever take. She didn't imagine she'd be particularly pleased.

She burst into the coach's office, Scott, Stiles and Allison whipped around to face her.

"It's only me." She said, letting the door swing shut behind her.

Stiles tossed his bag into the corner with a frustrated wave of his hand. Allison braced herself on the desk.

"Derek's outside waiting for Lydia." Scott said.

"Waiting to kill her?" Allison said, looking worriedly at Scott.

Nora held herself back from saying anything to that stupid fucking question. Stiles gave her a pointed look.

"If he thinks she's the kanima, then yes." Scott told her, his voice was low.

Allison sighed, her eyes rolling to the ceiling. For a moment Nora felt a pang of sympathy for her, after all, they were all in the same mess.

The feeling passed quickly when the image of Allison, quivering next to Kate as Kate pointed a gun to her, rose up from Nora's memory.

Maybe Scott could push past it, but Nora wouldn't. Something had to be the thorn in Allison's side reminding her that she'd done wrong. If that something had to be Nora, she'd live with it.

"Especially after what happened at the pool." Scott continued.

"It's not her." Stiles insisted, stepping towards Scott.

"Stiles, she didn't pass the test." Scott said, his voice was soft. "Nothing happened."

Stiles continued to shake his head.

"No, it can't be her."

Fury swelled in Nora's chest.

"And why not?" Her voice was cold.

Stiles turned to her. He looked ready to say something, but not like he knew what.

"Exactly." Nora said. "At this point, I think she's the kanima."

For a small moment the room was silent. Nora wondered if there was anything left in Scott or Allison that believed Lydia was human. If there was, Nora hoped she'd just killed it.

Lydia was her friend, and the evidence pointing towards her being the creature felt like a knife slipped under her ribs, but Nora couldn't change it. It was coming clearer and clearer, that Nora didn't live in a world she could change.

For a second, Stiles had the audacity to look betrayed.

"What do you mean you-"

"It doesn't matter." Allison sighed, cutting him off. "Because Derek thinks it's her. So either we can convince him that he's wrong, or we've gotta figure out a way to protect her." She said, looking desperately to Scott.

"What if he's right?" Nora asked, letting her eyes flick between the three of them.

Allison turned to frown at her.

"Who's side are you on?"

Nora curled and uncurled her fingers at her side. Stiles' gaze was heavy on her. Scott was frowning at something conveniently next to her head, but not her.

"We can't not ask ourselves the hard questions just because we won't like the answers!" Nora shouted, running a hand through her loosely curling hair. Her voice had rose without her meaning to, but what did that matter? "No, we can't let Derek rip her throat out in the Goddamn parking lot, but several people are dead because of her, what about them? What about us?"

"I really don't think he's going to do anything here, not at school." Scott said quickly, avoiding Nora's eyes.

What had she just fucking said?

_Did he just fucking ignore me?_

For a moment, Nora imagined picking up the stapler next to her, and hurling it at his thick head.

"What about after school?" Allison pressed.

Scott sighed, and Allison rubbed her hands over her face.

"What if we can prove that Derek's wrong?" Allison asked.

"What? By three o'clock?" Stiles said.

She could hear his attempt at a jab, but his heart wasn't it. His voice was as deflated as Nora knew he was, as they both were.

" _This is going to end. It has to, this can't go on forever."_

Nora was getting less and less sure they were all going to make it to the end, if there even was one.

Especially not if Lydia kept trying to kill them all.

"There could be something in the beastiary." Allison offered weakly.

"Oh, you mean the 900 page book written in archaic Latin that none of us can read?" Stiles snapped. "Good luck with that."

Scott's eyes flicked between the three of them, dark with anger as they rested on her. Nora cocked her head and held his gaze.

" _Who's side are you on?"_

It seemed like Nora was carving out a space of her own, somewhere in between them all.

"Actually I think I know someone who might be able to translate it." Allison said, raising her eyes back up from the floor.

"Uh, I can talk to Derek." Scott said, looking like he knew already exactly how that conversation would go. "Maybe convince him to give us a chance to prove that it's not her." His gaze drifted back to her, something almost like a challenge in it, or maybe Nora was imagining things. "But if anything happens, you guys let me handle it. Okay?"

Nora moved towards the door, watching Allison gaze up at Scott, confusion written on her face.

"What does that mean?"

It took everything Nora had not to scream, "Are you stupid?" Right in her face.

"It means stay out of the way and let Scott take all the physical beating." She said flatly.

Scott cast her a grateful glance. For some reason, it stung like a slap.

"Yeah, you can't heal like I do." He said. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

Guilt squirmed in her chest.

She knew she was being hard on Scott. She knew he was trying to do the right thing. She knew he was trying to do his best.

But that didn't mean he wasn't making mistakes.

With an eye roll, Allison rifled through her backpack and produced a miniature crossbow, holding it up to Scott with a tilt of her head.

"I can protect myself." She said.

Nora leaned around Scott to meet Allison's eyes, she squinted at her.

"What was that? Your big feminist moment?" She glanced at Stiles searching his face for any indication that maybe something, anything, might make him laugh. "I've gotta go burn my bra now, I guess."

Stiles rubbed his hand over his face as Scott stepped closer to Allison, obscuring her affronted look. She looked back at Stiles. His face had changed. He was still looking back at her, but now he only looked nauseous.

"What?" Allison asked. "Did something else happen?"

"I just don't want you getting hurt." Scott said again. "Seriously, if anything goes wrong, you call me. Okay? I- I don't care if your dad finds out, call, text, scream, yell, whatever I'll hear you and I'll find you as fast as I can."

Nora looked away from them, her was chest tight.

Would Ben come to love her like that?

Would anyone?

"We have until three." Scott said, and turned towards the door, but Nora was still standing there.

She raised her eyes to his, and folded her arms over her chest.

"Nora-" He started.

"Scott, if we don't start looking at things like the worst possible outcome has already happened, we're going to die." She let the words fall from her mouth, shaking and raw.

If they stuck their necks out for Lydia, she could be the one to tear them open.

Scott glanced helplessly back at Allison, who was snatching her crossbow back from Stiles.

"Nora, how is this supposed to get worse?"

His voice was low, but the room was too small, Stiles and Allison bent their heads towards them. There was a deep line furrowed in Stiles' brow. Allison traced the strings of her bow.

Nora stepped aside as Scott reached again for the door handle.

_You're going to regret asking that._

* * *

Nora watched Stiles frantically slip every lock shut on Scott's front door. Lydia gave Jackson an incredulous glance, only to be met with nothing but a clenched jaw.

"Uh, there's been a few break-ins around the neighbourhood." Stiles spat out.

Lydia shrugged, and Stiles darted across the room, seized a chair, and shoved it under the doorknob. Lydia gave it a pointed look, her glossy lips pursed.

"And a murder." Stiles added.

Jackson let out a terse sigh, and Allison cast a small smile down at the floor.

"Yeah it was bad." Stiles continued.

Nora met his eyes and tried to press her lips into a smile, but she was sure she just looked pained.

He still loved Lydia, didn't he?

Because he wasn't like Scott, looking for the good in everyone, no matter what. He wasn't like Allison, purposefully pushing the truth to his peripheral. No, he was just in love with her. He'd be the one giving long "I don't want you hurt" speeches if it was his place. He wasn't going to consider that she might be a monster. Lydia had to be human. If she was human, one day she might want him back.

Rage rose up in the back of Nora's throat like bile.

She supposed Stiles knew her too well to love her like that. To love her at all.

Jackson and Lydia disappeared upstairs. Nora watched Lydia give her a questioning, irritated look, but she was gone before Nora could unfreeze herself to return it.

They were friends.

They were friends and Nora had spent the past few hours thinking about how she might have to die, about how Stiles had never loved her because of her.

How did she still have it in her to care about that?

How did she still have it in her to care about anything?

Allison cast a worried glance out the window, and Stiles shoved his hands in and out of her pockets. Nora didn't feel anything more than resigned.

Maybe she wasn't caring, at least, not the right way.

Nora pressed the heels of her hands into her eyelids and walked into Scott's living room. She didn't need to see to collapse into what had once been her place on the couch. She knew his home as well as she knew her own.

She leaned back into the cushions and stared up at the ceiling. Her eyes burned. She felt Stiles sit down next to her, his knee knocking in hers. She wanted to smack him, grab him by his shoulders, shake him, something.

Why?

"You know we have to talk about it, right?" He said. His voice was just low enough so that she could hear it.

_About how you'll always love someone else more than me?_

Nora forced the thought from her head. There was no point. He was talking about the pool.

She rolled her head to the side to meet his eyes. Despite everything, the worry all over his face, his eyes were bright. Nora knew it was the final light of late afternoon streaming in through the windows, but for a moment, she let herself pretend it was her.

" _How am I supposed to be with someone I can't be honest with?"_

"Is this really the time?" She whispered, glancing at Allison.

Though Allison looked far too lost in her own thoughts to care what they were talking about.

"What? Do I have to book an appointment?" Stiles said with a scoff. "Nora, what did you do?"

She looked back at him.

"Is 'what I think I had to,' a good enough answer?"

She sounded small. She felt small.

Stiles ran his hands over his hair. Nora was struck by the memory of the last time she'd done that, moments before they'd fallen apart. Her stomach churned.

"Guys." Allison said, looking over to them, her brown eyes wide. "They're here."

Nora and Stiles scrambled to their feet, stumbling over one another to the front door. They peered outside.

Across the street, Derek stood on the curb, his three betas by his side.

Nora sucked in a breath.

"I know I keep asking this, but what do we keep saving this asshole's life for?"

Stiles let out a huff of laughter, but said nothing, and handed his phone to Allison.

"If he doesn't pick up, I might kill him." Nora said.

Her voice was humourless, and she didn't care. She was sure part of her meant it.

* * *

As the minutes crept by and the sky grew darker, Scott was still nowhere to be found.

Nora sat on the foot of the staircase as Stiles stayed braced against the front door. Allison worried at the phone in her hand. Whatever Jackson and Lydia were doing upstairs, whether making up or tearing out each other's throats, they were at least being quiet about it.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked.

"I think- I think I have to call my dad." She said, her voice wavered on every word.

"But if he finds you here, you and Scott-" Stiles started.

"I know." Allison cut him off. "What are we supposed to do? They're not here to scare us, okay? They're here to kill Lydia."

Nora was sure that Allison didn't know it, but Stiles would probably let her do anything if it meant protecting Lydia.

Allison dropped her arm to her side, and stepped back to the window. Nora stood up, feeling adrenaline start to pour into her veins.

"Are you going to call him?" She asked, fighting to keep her voice low.

Allison turned her head towards her.

"I know that's what you want." She said sharply.

Nora glanced at Stiles. He shook his head and looked back outside.

"Of course it is." Nora said. "If I never have to see your face again it would be too soon but-"

Stiles planted his forehead on the window and let out a low groan.

"Are you awful on purpose, or does it come naturally to you?" Allison hissed.

"Both." Nora said flatly. "I watched you stand like a doe in headlights while your sociopathic Aunt threatened to kill me, and Scott, and I know you love him, but I'm never letting it go."

Allison reeled around, looking half ready to hit her or burst into tears.

"What am I supposed to do then?" She snapped. "What would you do, since you have all the answers?"

For a moment, Nora felt hope flicker in her chest.

"I'd do what Scott can't do." She told her, softening her voice, softening the blow. "He believes in you, he believes you'll have a happy ending. Do you?"

Nora watched Allison's face shift, only slightly, but her rage faltered, her lip quivered. Nora saw her way in, and took it.

"Call your dad." She said, weaving an unsteadiness into her voice, an uncertainty she didn't feel. "I know you want a fairytale, but I just want to stay alive."

Allison parted her lips to speak, but Stiles beat her to it.

"Where the hell is Isaac?"

He pressed his face to the glass, as if that could give him a better view. Allison pointed her bow to the window, breathing deeply. Nora felt a pull at the base of her spine.

She whipped around as a shadow moved through the hallway.

Why hadn't they turned on any fucking lights?

In the flash of a second, Isaac Lahey was towering over her. He seized her by the shoulders and threw her to the floor. The blow forced the air from her lungs. But Nora couldn't rid herself of the image of Isaac cowering away from Derek, she couldn't unhear the stories about his father.

She supposed what he'd wanted was strength, and he'd gotten it, a twisted version of it.

Nora watched Allison's bow clatter from her hand as he pushed her into the wall, and then hurled Stiles into the living room. Something moved under her skin, clearing her head, sharpening the feeling of the wood on her back, her nails digging into her palms of her clenched fists.

She shot to her feet and tried to seize that fear and adrenaline she'd felt at the pool, the moment before flinging the kanima away from her. But she couldn't find it. Nora had grown used to werewolves, the claws splitting the skin at the end of their fingers, their eyes materializing out of the dark. They didn't unsettle her anymore.

Allison scrambled to her feet and shot up the stairs, Isaac turned away from Stiles and moved to follow her.

Nora lunged at him, seizing the front of Isaac's cheap leather jacket and knotting her fingers into it so tightly her knuckles went white. Isaac tried to shove her away as she slipped her feet behind his and sent them both tumbling to the floor. Isaac's shoulder knocked into her nose. Nora tasted blood, and unwittingly, let go of his jacket, her hands flying up to her face.

Isaac tried to spring back to his feet, but Nora seized his wrist with one hand and raked her other across his face, aiming for the eyes.

She didn't know how to fit, but she knew enough to go for the eyes.

Her blood smeared across Isaac's skin.

Isaac reeled away, tearing himself out of her grip. She sat up on her elbows and Isaac stumbled back, tripping a little on the carpet. Her head pounded.

Her hand had drawn angry red marks across his face, and his skin bubbled where her blood had touched it. The sleeve of his jacket was singed and half melted. The skin underneath was deep red. Blisters formed and disappeared as Stiles climbed to his feet behind Isaac. Isaac was gaping at Nora, half in shock, and half in horror. He let out a strangled cry.

She tasted blood on her lips as she smiled.

_Good._

Stiles swung his lacrosse stick hard at Isaac's head, and he crumpled back to the floor. He stared at Nora, wearing a similar expression that Isaac had.

Nora looked down at her hands. Fire skittered across each palm, weaving through her fingers. She took a shaking breath, and imagined the candle in her bedroom, it's flame extinguished with a single look.

The fire on her palms disappeared as Stiles found some words to force out of his mouth.

"Okay, we have to talk-"

"Stiles!" Allison called from upstairs. "It's here."

Nora jumped to her feet, her body singing for something. She glanced down at Isaac.

"Nice swing."

"Nora, I swear to god-" But he cut himself off with a shake of his head and turned to the window.

Derek and Boyd were still standing on the curb; Erica was nowhere to be seen. Nora didn't want to point it out, but Scott wasn't around either.

She kicked the chair out from under the door handle and fumbled with each lock.

"What the hell are you-"

She swung the front door open and Stiles seized her around the waist, lifting her off of the floor and spinning her back inside.

"Superpowers? Fine. Making a death wish? No way, Nora!" Stiles said.

Nora shoved him off and whipped around to face him. For a moment, she saw Scott's desperate look from earlier.

" _I just don't want to see you hurt."_

Stiles' eyes flicked upstairs as something heavy thudded to the floor. Nora felt stupid, and childish, and like everything she hated Allison for being.

"Go worry over Lydia." She spat. "I can take care of myself."

Before Stiles could grab at her again, Nora sprinted out into the night, stopping on the curb opposite of Derek.

The streetlight pooled around the two werewolves. Boyd took a small step back at the sight of her. Nora felt a rush of satisfaction.

She was still bleeding, but right now, she couldn't feel the pain.

Derek regarded her with the usual amount of threat, but the look rolled off of her like water.

It struck Nora that she didn't know what she had come out here to say.

Something shattered in the house behind her, and Derek glanced up, a smug smile creeping onto his face. But the look vanished as quickly as it came.

Nora turned to watch Scott toss Isaac and Erica from his porch, and they landed unceremoniously on the grass. Scott, Allison, and Stiles stepped outside.

"I think I'm finally getting why you keep refusing me Scott." Derek said, his voice carrying across the street. "You're not an omega. You're already an alpha, of your own pack. But you know you can't beat me."

"I can hold you off until the cops get here." Scott said.

Derek's face fell as sirens wailed nearby. A shadow moved across Scott's roof. Claws slipped and clicked on shingles.

The kanima screeched, it's scales glittering in the moonlight, and leapt into the dark.

Lydia charged through the front door, her red hair was like a banner behind her.

"Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" She shouted, regarding them all furiously.

Nora couldn't force the grin off of her face even if she wanted to as Lydia's eyes fell on her.

"Why the hell are you covered in blood?"

* * *

Derek glanced down at the still bodies of Erica and Isaac. Erica was gazing up at him frantically, her eyes darting from side to side while her body couldn't. Isaac was still unconscious; his face smeared with blood Derek knew wasn't his. It was discomforting, to be so familiar with people and their scents. He often got stuck with a lot of information he didn't want, didn't need.

"It's Jackson." He heard Scott say.

Derek didn't understand how that was possible, but he didn't have time to dwell on it.

He looked back at Scott's makeshift pack, Lydia fuming on the porch, Scott, Stiles, and Allison gathered at the base of the porch steps, and Nora. Nora who was standing apart from them, close to the center of the street. Blood dripped from her nose.

He looked down at Isaac's melted sleeve, and then back to Nora.

Her two-toned eyes were already on him, pale and bright despite the dark. They were almost glowing. Derek's skin crawled, and Nora's slash of a smile widened, her hands curled and uncurled at her sides.

The girl standing in front of him now was a far cry from the one he'd woken up to once, leaning over him, having just brought him back to life in the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic.

" _You're a monster."_

He probably was.

But if all Derek knew of Nora was the girl grinning at him now, he'd have to say the same thing about her.

* * *

**Lmao guess who's back. I want to post every week! I want to post every week! I WANT TO POST EVERYYY WEEEKKK!**

**every two weeks is probably a more reasonable goal tbh**

**Okay well, per usual, I adore your comments and your patience, love u bye.**


	18. where the fuck have i been

Hey everyone, so I wish there was a way to post updates without taking up a chapter space but there ain't so....

Long story short, I had a bunch of random shitty things happen to me this semester (since beginning of February till like end of March) but the last couple weeks that shit calmed down as well as school is winding down for the year to. So I was like "SICK!!! I can finally get back to writing this story that I fucking love writing!!!"

WELL quite recently a member of my immediate family unexpectedly passed away. Fucking wild, I know. 

So why am I telling ya'll this? Because some of you have been so invested in this story and I was already feeling like "oof I should probably say something about the fact that I've disappeared for forever. Hopefully nobody thinks something happened to me."

This is just an explanation of like I was about to get back this but now probably not for a little while because understandably, I am not in the mood right now.

Anyway I want to thank you guys for your patience and reassure you that this isn't an abandoned story, my life is just taking lots of twists and turns right now and I'm like "okay cool so this is what we're doing right now? It sucks." 

Anyway, I am doing well for the circumstances so there's no need to worry. I have always been a strong and pragmatic person (not to weird flex) and I have a therapist and shit and lots of support around me during this time. Although not from university, I won't name it, but I'm so mad right now at the psychology and English departments. Whatever.

I have been so grateful for you guys' investment in this story and your patience (not that I've given you much of a choice lmao). Writing is something I love to do and it will likely be how I end up working through what's going on in my life right now. Hope to be back soon, and I hope you all are doing well no matter what kind of nonsense the universe has thrown your way,

S


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